-----a forwaded message in my inbox----
Tech Support: Yes, ... how can I help you?
Customer: Well, after much consideration, I've decided to
install Love. Can you guide me though the process?
Tech Support: Yes. I can help you. Are you ready to proceed?
Customer: Well, I'm not very technical, but I think I'm ready.
What do I do first?
Tech Support: The first step is to open your Heart. Have you located
your Heart?
Customer: Yes, but there are several other programs running
now. Is it okay to install Love while they are running?
Tech Support: What programs are running ?
Customer: Let's see, I have Past Hurt, Low Self-Esteem, Grudge
and Resentment running right now.
Tech Support: No problem, Love will gradually erase Past Hurt from
your cur ren t operating system. It may remain in your permanent memory
but it will no longer disrupt other programs. Love will eventually
override Low Self-Esteem with a module of its own called High
Self-Esteem. However, you have to completely turn off Grudge and
Resentment. Those programs prevent Love from being properly installed.
Can you turn those off ?
Customer: I don't know how to turn them off. Can you tell me how?
Tech Support: With pleasure. Go to your start menu and invoke
Forgiveness. Do this as many times as necessary until Grudge and
Resentment have been completely erased.
Customer: Okay, done! Love has started installing itself. Is
that normal?
Tech Support: Yes, but remember that you have only the base program.
You need to begin connecting to other Hearts in order to get the
upgrades.
Customer: Oops! I have an error message already. It says,
"Error - Program not run on external components." What should I do?
Tech Support: Don't worry. It means that the Love program is set up
to run on Internal Hearts, but has not yet been run on your Heart. In
non-technical terms, it simply means you have to Love yourself before
you can Love others.
Customer: So, what should I do?
Tech Support: Pull down Self-Acceptance; then click on the following
files: Forgive-Self; Realize Your Worth; and Acknowledge your
Limitations.
Customer: Okay, done.
Tech Support: Now, copy them to the "My Heart" directory. The system
will overwrite any conflicting files and begin patching faulty
programming. Also, you need to delete Verbose Self-Criticism from all
directories and empty your Recycle Bin to make sure it is completely
gone and never comes back.
Customer: Got it. Hey! My heart is filling up with new files.
Smile is playing on my monitor and Peace and Contentment are copying
themselves all over My Heart. Is this normal?
Tech Support: Sometimes. For others it takes awhile, but eventually
everything gets it at the proper time. So Love is installed and
running. One more thing before we hang up. Love is Freeware. Be sure
to give it and its various modules to everyone you meet. They will in
turn share it with others and return some cool modules back to you.
Customer: Thank you, God.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Award
Award...award....award!!!
Thanks to for this great Award
I love the blogs of these people and I'm glad to pass this award onto them! All they need to do is to leave the following message on their post when they pass the award on to their chosen eight bloggers.
They all are charmed with the blogs, where in the majority of its aims are to show the marvels and to do friendship; there are persons who are not interested when we give them a prize and then they help to cut these bows; do we want that they are cut or that they propagate? Then let's try to give more attention to them! So with this prize we must deliver it to 8 bloggers that in turn must make the same thing and put this text.
I'm passing this award to:
Partners and Marriage
By Eduardo Jose E. Calasanz
I have never met a man who didn't want to be
loved. But I have seldom met a man who didn't fear
marriage. Something about the closure seems
constricting, not enabling. Marriage seems easier
to understand for what it cuts out of our lives than
for what it makes possible within our lives.
When I was younger this fear immobilized me. I
did not want to make a mistake. I saw my friends
get married for reasons of social acceptability, or
sexual fever, or just because they thought it was
the logical thing to do. Then I watched, as they
and their partners became embittered and petty in
their dealings with each other. I looked at older
couples and saw, at best, mutual toleration of
each other. I imagined a lifetime of loveless nights
and bickering and could not imagine subjecting
myself or someone else to such a fate.
And yet, on rare occasions, I would see old
couples who somehow seemed to glow in each
other's presence. They seemed really in love, not
just dependent upon each other and tolerant of
each other's foibles. It was an astounding sight,
and it seemed impossible. How, I asked myself,
can they have survived so many years of
sameness, so much irritation at the other's habits?
What keeps love alive in them, when most of us
seem unable to even stay together, much less love
each other? The central secret seems to be in
choosing well. There is something to the claim of
fundamental compatibility.
Good people can create a bad relationship, even
though they both dearly want the relationship to
succeed. It is important to find someone with
whom you can create a good relationship from the
outset. Unfortunately, it is hard to see clearly in
the early stages.
Sexual hunger draws you to each other and colors
the way you see yourselves together. It blinds you
to the thousands of little things by which
relationships eventually survive or fail. You need to
find a way to see beyond this initial overwhelming
sexual fascination. Some people choose to involve
themselves sexually and ride out the most heated
period of sexual attraction in order to see what is
on the other side. This can work, but it can also
leave a trail of wounded hearts. Others deny the
sexual side altogether in an attempt to get to know
each other apart from their sexuality. But they
cannot see clearly, because the presence of
unfulfilled sexual desire looms so large that it
keeps them from having any normal perception of
what life would be like together.
The truly lucky people are the ones who manage
to become long-time friends before they realize
they are attracted to each other. They get to know
each other's laughs, passions, sadness, and
fears.
They see each other at their worst and at their
best. They share time together before they get
swept into the entangling intimacy of their
sexuality.
This is the ideal, but not often possible. If you fall
under the spell of your sexual attraction
immediately, you need to look beyond it for other
keys to compatibility. One of these is laughter.
Laughter tells you how much you will enjoy each
other's company over the long term.
If your laughter together is good and healthy, and
not at the expense of others, then you have a
healthy relationship to the world. Laughter is the
child of surprise. If you can make each other
laugh, you can always surprise each other. And if
you can always surprise each other, you can
always keep the world around you new. Beware
of
a relationship in which there is no laughter. Even
the most intimate relationships based only on
seriousness have a tendency to turn sour. Over
time, sharing a common serious viewpoint on the
world tends to turn you against those who do not
share the same viewpoint, and your relationship
can become based on being critical together.
After laughter, look for a partner who deals with
the
world in a way you respect. When two people first
get together, they tend to see their relationship as
existing only in the space between the two of
them.
They find each other endlessly fascinating, and the
overwhelming power of the emotions they are
sharing obscures the outside world. As the
relationship ages and grows, the outside world
becomes important again. If your partner treats
people or circumstances in a way you can't
accept, you will inevitably come to grief. Look at
the way she cares for others and deals with the
daily affairs of life. If that makes you love her more,
your love will grow. If it does not, be careful. If you
do not respect the way you each deal with the
world around you, eventually the two of you will
not
respect each other.
Look also at how your partner confronts the
mysteries of life. We live on the cusp of poetry and
practicality, and the real life of the heart resides in
the poetic. If one of you is deeply affected by the
mystery of the unseen in life and relationships,
while the other is drawn only to the literal and the
practical, you must take care that the distance
doesn't become an unbridgeable gap that leaves
you each feeling isolated and misunderstood.
There are many other keys, but you must find
them by yourself. We all have unchangeable parts
of our hearts that we will not betray and private
commitments to a vision of life that we will not
deny. If you fall in love with someone who cannot
nourish those inviolable parts of you, or if you
cannot nourish them in her, you will find
yourselves
growing further apart until you live in separate
worlds where you share the business of life, but
never touch each other where the heart lives and
dreams. From there it is only a small leap to the
cataloging of petty hurts and daily failures that
leaves so many couples bitter and unsatisfied with
their mates.
So choose carefully and well. If you do, you will
have chosen a partner with whom you can grow,
and then the real miracle of marriage can take
place in your hearts. I pick my words carefully
when I speak of a miracle. But I think it is not too
strong a word.
There is a miracle in marriage. It is called
transformation. Transformation is one of the most
common events of nature. The seed becomes the
flower. The cocoon becomes the butterfly. Winter
becomes spring and love becomes a child. We
never question these, because we see them
around us every day. To us they are not miracles,
though if we did not know them they would be
impossible to believe.
Marriage is a transformation we choose to make.
Our love is planted like a seed, and in time it
begins to flower. We cannot know the flower that
will blossom, but we can be sure that a bloom will
come.
If you have chosen carefully and wisely, the bloom
will be good. If you have chosen poorly or for the
wrong reason, the bloom will be flawed. We are
quite willing to accept the reality of negative
transformation in a marriage. It was negative
transformation that always had me terrified of the
bitter marriages that I feared when I was younger.
It never occurred to me to question the dark
miracle that transformed love into harshness and
bitterness. Yet I was unable to accept the
possibility that the first heat of love could be
transformed into something positive that was
actually deeper and more meaningful than the heat
of fresh passion. All I could believe in was the
power of this passion and the fear that when it
cooled I would be left with something lesser and
bitter.
But there is positive transformation as well. Like
negative transformation, it results from a slow
accretion of little things. But instead of death by a
thousand blows, it is growth by a thousand
touches of love. Two histories intermingle. Two
separate beings, two separate presence, two
separate consciousnesses come together and
share a view of life that passes before them. They
remain separate, but they also become one. There
is an expansion of awareness, not a closure and a
constriction, as I had once feared. This is not to
say that there is not tension and there are not
traps. Tension and traps are part of every choice
of
life, from celibate to monogamous to having
multiple lovers. Each choice contains within it the
lingering doubt that the road not taken somehow
more fruitful and exciting, and each becomes
dulled to the richness that it alone contains.
But only marriage allows life to deepen and expand
and be leavened by the knowledge that two have
chosen, against all odds, to become one. Those
who live together without marriage can know the
pleasure of shared company, but there is a
specific gravity in the marriage commitment that
deepens that experience into something richer and
more complex.
So do not fear marriage, just as you should not
rush into it for the wrong reasons. It is an act of
faith and it contains within it the power of
transformation.
If you believe in your heart that you have found
someone with whom you are able to grow, if you
have sufficient faith that you can resist the
endless
attraction of the road not taken and the partner not
chosen, if you have the strength of heart to
embrace the cycles and seasons that your love
will experience, then you may be ready to seek
the miracle that marriage offers.
If not, then wait. The easy grace of a marriage well
made is worth your patience. When the time
comes, a thousand flowers will bloom...endlessly.
I have never met a man who didn't want to be
loved. But I have seldom met a man who didn't fear
marriage. Something about the closure seems
constricting, not enabling. Marriage seems easier
to understand for what it cuts out of our lives than
for what it makes possible within our lives.
When I was younger this fear immobilized me. I
did not want to make a mistake. I saw my friends
get married for reasons of social acceptability, or
sexual fever, or just because they thought it was
the logical thing to do. Then I watched, as they
and their partners became embittered and petty in
their dealings with each other. I looked at older
couples and saw, at best, mutual toleration of
each other. I imagined a lifetime of loveless nights
and bickering and could not imagine subjecting
myself or someone else to such a fate.
And yet, on rare occasions, I would see old
couples who somehow seemed to glow in each
other's presence. They seemed really in love, not
just dependent upon each other and tolerant of
each other's foibles. It was an astounding sight,
and it seemed impossible. How, I asked myself,
can they have survived so many years of
sameness, so much irritation at the other's habits?
What keeps love alive in them, when most of us
seem unable to even stay together, much less love
each other? The central secret seems to be in
choosing well. There is something to the claim of
fundamental compatibility.
Good people can create a bad relationship, even
though they both dearly want the relationship to
succeed. It is important to find someone with
whom you can create a good relationship from the
outset. Unfortunately, it is hard to see clearly in
the early stages.
Sexual hunger draws you to each other and colors
the way you see yourselves together. It blinds you
to the thousands of little things by which
relationships eventually survive or fail. You need to
find a way to see beyond this initial overwhelming
sexual fascination. Some people choose to involve
themselves sexually and ride out the most heated
period of sexual attraction in order to see what is
on the other side. This can work, but it can also
leave a trail of wounded hearts. Others deny the
sexual side altogether in an attempt to get to know
each other apart from their sexuality. But they
cannot see clearly, because the presence of
unfulfilled sexual desire looms so large that it
keeps them from having any normal perception of
what life would be like together.
The truly lucky people are the ones who manage
to become long-time friends before they realize
they are attracted to each other. They get to know
each other's laughs, passions, sadness, and
fears.
They see each other at their worst and at their
best. They share time together before they get
swept into the entangling intimacy of their
sexuality.
This is the ideal, but not often possible. If you fall
under the spell of your sexual attraction
immediately, you need to look beyond it for other
keys to compatibility. One of these is laughter.
Laughter tells you how much you will enjoy each
other's company over the long term.
If your laughter together is good and healthy, and
not at the expense of others, then you have a
healthy relationship to the world. Laughter is the
child of surprise. If you can make each other
laugh, you can always surprise each other. And if
you can always surprise each other, you can
always keep the world around you new. Beware
of
a relationship in which there is no laughter. Even
the most intimate relationships based only on
seriousness have a tendency to turn sour. Over
time, sharing a common serious viewpoint on the
world tends to turn you against those who do not
share the same viewpoint, and your relationship
can become based on being critical together.
After laughter, look for a partner who deals with
the
world in a way you respect. When two people first
get together, they tend to see their relationship as
existing only in the space between the two of
them.
They find each other endlessly fascinating, and the
overwhelming power of the emotions they are
sharing obscures the outside world. As the
relationship ages and grows, the outside world
becomes important again. If your partner treats
people or circumstances in a way you can't
accept, you will inevitably come to grief. Look at
the way she cares for others and deals with the
daily affairs of life. If that makes you love her more,
your love will grow. If it does not, be careful. If you
do not respect the way you each deal with the
world around you, eventually the two of you will
not
respect each other.
Look also at how your partner confronts the
mysteries of life. We live on the cusp of poetry and
practicality, and the real life of the heart resides in
the poetic. If one of you is deeply affected by the
mystery of the unseen in life and relationships,
while the other is drawn only to the literal and the
practical, you must take care that the distance
doesn't become an unbridgeable gap that leaves
you each feeling isolated and misunderstood.
There are many other keys, but you must find
them by yourself. We all have unchangeable parts
of our hearts that we will not betray and private
commitments to a vision of life that we will not
deny. If you fall in love with someone who cannot
nourish those inviolable parts of you, or if you
cannot nourish them in her, you will find
yourselves
growing further apart until you live in separate
worlds where you share the business of life, but
never touch each other where the heart lives and
dreams. From there it is only a small leap to the
cataloging of petty hurts and daily failures that
leaves so many couples bitter and unsatisfied with
their mates.
So choose carefully and well. If you do, you will
have chosen a partner with whom you can grow,
and then the real miracle of marriage can take
place in your hearts. I pick my words carefully
when I speak of a miracle. But I think it is not too
strong a word.
There is a miracle in marriage. It is called
transformation. Transformation is one of the most
common events of nature. The seed becomes the
flower. The cocoon becomes the butterfly. Winter
becomes spring and love becomes a child. We
never question these, because we see them
around us every day. To us they are not miracles,
though if we did not know them they would be
impossible to believe.
Marriage is a transformation we choose to make.
Our love is planted like a seed, and in time it
begins to flower. We cannot know the flower that
will blossom, but we can be sure that a bloom will
come.
If you have chosen carefully and wisely, the bloom
will be good. If you have chosen poorly or for the
wrong reason, the bloom will be flawed. We are
quite willing to accept the reality of negative
transformation in a marriage. It was negative
transformation that always had me terrified of the
bitter marriages that I feared when I was younger.
It never occurred to me to question the dark
miracle that transformed love into harshness and
bitterness. Yet I was unable to accept the
possibility that the first heat of love could be
transformed into something positive that was
actually deeper and more meaningful than the heat
of fresh passion. All I could believe in was the
power of this passion and the fear that when it
cooled I would be left with something lesser and
bitter.
But there is positive transformation as well. Like
negative transformation, it results from a slow
accretion of little things. But instead of death by a
thousand blows, it is growth by a thousand
touches of love. Two histories intermingle. Two
separate beings, two separate presence, two
separate consciousnesses come together and
share a view of life that passes before them. They
remain separate, but they also become one. There
is an expansion of awareness, not a closure and a
constriction, as I had once feared. This is not to
say that there is not tension and there are not
traps. Tension and traps are part of every choice
of
life, from celibate to monogamous to having
multiple lovers. Each choice contains within it the
lingering doubt that the road not taken somehow
more fruitful and exciting, and each becomes
dulled to the richness that it alone contains.
But only marriage allows life to deepen and expand
and be leavened by the knowledge that two have
chosen, against all odds, to become one. Those
who live together without marriage can know the
pleasure of shared company, but there is a
specific gravity in the marriage commitment that
deepens that experience into something richer and
more complex.
So do not fear marriage, just as you should not
rush into it for the wrong reasons. It is an act of
faith and it contains within it the power of
transformation.
If you believe in your heart that you have found
someone with whom you are able to grow, if you
have sufficient faith that you can resist the
endless
attraction of the road not taken and the partner not
chosen, if you have the strength of heart to
embrace the cycles and seasons that your love
will experience, then you may be ready to seek
the miracle that marriage offers.
If not, then wait. The easy grace of a marriage well
made is worth your patience. When the time
comes, a thousand flowers will bloom...endlessly.
Friday, September 19, 2008
The Sand Piper
The Sandpiper by Robert Peterson
She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sandcastle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.
"Hello," she said.
I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.
"I'm building," she said.
"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring.
"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."
That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes. A sandpiper glided by.
"That's a joy," the child said.
"It's a what?"
"It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy."
The bird went gliding down the beach. Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance.
"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.
"Robert," I answered. "I'm Robert Peterson."
"Mine's Wendy... I'm six." "Hi, Wendy." She giggled. "You're funny".
In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me.
"Come again, Mr. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."
After a few days of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat.
The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed.
"Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"
"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.
"I don't know, you say."
"How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.
The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is."
"Then let's just walk."
Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face. "Where do you live?" I asked.
"Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.
Strange, I thought, in winter.
"Where do you go to school?" "I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation."
She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.
Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.
"Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today." She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.
"Why?" she asked.
I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, My God, why was I saying this to a little child?
"Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."
"Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and--oh, go away!"
"Did it hurt?" she inquired.
"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself.
"When she died?"
"Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.
A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there. Feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.
"Hello," I said, "I'm Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was."
"Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much. I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies."
"Not at all -- she's a delightful child." I said, suddenly realizing that I meant what I had just said.
"Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell you."
Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath
"She loved this beach so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no. She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly.." Her voice faltered, "She left something for you if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?"
I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope with "MR. P" printed in bold childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird.
Underneath was carefully printed: A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.
Tears welled up in my eyes and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I muttered over and over, and we wept together. The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words -- one for each year of her life -- that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand -- who taught me the gift of love.
NOTE: This is a true story sent out by Robert Peterson. It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his life forever. It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other. The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less. Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a momentary setback or crisis. This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means, take a moment...even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the roses. This comes from someone's heart, and is shared with many and now I share it with you.
Shipwreck
This was shared with me by a friend, I hope you will share with your friends.
A shipwreck
A voyaging ship was wrecked during a storm at sea and only two of the men on it were able to swim to a small, desert like island. The two survivors, not knowing what else to do, agree that they had no other recourse but to pray to God.
However, to find out whose prayer was more powerful, they agreed to divide the territory between them and stay on opposite sides of the island.
The first thing they prayed for was food. The next morning, the first man saw a fruit-bearing tree on his side of the land, and he was able to eat its fruit. The other man's parcel of land remained barren.
After a week, the first man was lonely and he decided to pray for a wife. The next day, another ship was wrecked, and the only survivor was a woman who swam to his side of the land. On the other side of the island, there was nothing.
Soon the first man prayed for a house, clothes, more food. The next day, like magic, all of these were given to him. However, the second man still had nothing.
Finally, the first man prayed for a ship, so that he and his wife could leave the island. In the morning, he found a ship docked at his side of the island. The first man boarded the ship with his wife and decided to leave the second man on the island. He considered the other man unworthy to receive God's blessings, since none of his prayers had been answered.
As the ship was about to leave, the first man heard a voice from heaven booming, "Why are you leaving your companion on the island?"
"My blessings are mine alone, since I was the one who prayed for them," the first man answered. "His prayers were all unanswered and so he does not deserve anything."
"You are mistaken!" the voice rebuked him. "He had only one prayer, which I answered. If not for that, you would not have received any of my blessings."
"Tell me," the first man asked the voice, "what did he pray for that I should owe him anything?"
"He prayed that all your prayers be answered."
For all we know, our blessings are not the fruits of our prayers alone, but those of another praying for us.
This is too good not to share. With obedience come blessings. My prayer for you today is that all your prayers are answered. Be blessed.
"What you do for others is more important than what you do for yourself"
A shipwreck
A voyaging ship was wrecked during a storm at sea and only two of the men on it were able to swim to a small, desert like island. The two survivors, not knowing what else to do, agree that they had no other recourse but to pray to God.
However, to find out whose prayer was more powerful, they agreed to divide the territory between them and stay on opposite sides of the island.
The first thing they prayed for was food. The next morning, the first man saw a fruit-bearing tree on his side of the land, and he was able to eat its fruit. The other man's parcel of land remained barren.
After a week, the first man was lonely and he decided to pray for a wife. The next day, another ship was wrecked, and the only survivor was a woman who swam to his side of the land. On the other side of the island, there was nothing.
Soon the first man prayed for a house, clothes, more food. The next day, like magic, all of these were given to him. However, the second man still had nothing.
Finally, the first man prayed for a ship, so that he and his wife could leave the island. In the morning, he found a ship docked at his side of the island. The first man boarded the ship with his wife and decided to leave the second man on the island. He considered the other man unworthy to receive God's blessings, since none of his prayers had been answered.
As the ship was about to leave, the first man heard a voice from heaven booming, "Why are you leaving your companion on the island?"
"My blessings are mine alone, since I was the one who prayed for them," the first man answered. "His prayers were all unanswered and so he does not deserve anything."
"You are mistaken!" the voice rebuked him. "He had only one prayer, which I answered. If not for that, you would not have received any of my blessings."
"Tell me," the first man asked the voice, "what did he pray for that I should owe him anything?"
"He prayed that all your prayers be answered."
For all we know, our blessings are not the fruits of our prayers alone, but those of another praying for us.
This is too good not to share. With obedience come blessings. My prayer for you today is that all your prayers are answered. Be blessed.
"What you do for others is more important than what you do for yourself"
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Amazing Work of Art
Posted by Lee in Crossoverprofiles
so amazing i can't help but share it.
Love 2008 Sand Fantasy
Find more videos like this on Crossoverprofiles
Let's Get Together - Sand Fantasy
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Just Imagine Long - Sand Fantasy
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so amazing i can't help but share it.
Love 2008 Sand Fantasy
Find more videos like this on Crossoverprofiles
Let's Get Together - Sand Fantasy
Find more videos like this on Crossoverprofiles
Just Imagine Long - Sand Fantasy
Find more videos like this on Crossoverprofiles
The Longest 5 Minutes
This is a forwarded message sent by classmate and it made me realize how important the five minutes in our life.
"I was listening to a sermon this afternoon. It really made me think and I would like to
share with you what the minister said:
* The longest five minutes of your life will be the five minutes after your death.
* Five minutes after your dead, you will know what is important and what is not important.
* Five minutes after your dead, you will really know if you are alive.
* Five minutes after your dead you will always remember who you didn't witness to.
* Five minutes after your dead you will remember each Sunday you didn't go to Church
because you were just plain lazy, and busy doing other things.
* Five minutes after your death you will know for certain if you lived for Christ or yourself.
* Five minutes after your dead you will realize every earthly opportunity you got will be gone.
* Five minutes after your dead, your destiny will be fixed in Eternity.
* Five minutes after your dead you can't turn back or have another chance.
* Five minutes after your dead, sports and other things will not matter.
* Five minutes after your dead, the question is what really does matter?
* The longest five minutes of your life, you have an opportunity to change it.
* Take five minutes to know Jesus Christ if you don't.
* Take five minutes to get right with God if you are not right with Him now.
* Take five minutes to tell someone you love them, and give them a hug."
"I was listening to a sermon this afternoon. It really made me think and I would like to
share with you what the minister said:
* The longest five minutes of your life will be the five minutes after your death.
* Five minutes after your dead, you will know what is important and what is not important.
* Five minutes after your dead, you will really know if you are alive.
* Five minutes after your dead you will always remember who you didn't witness to.
* Five minutes after your dead you will remember each Sunday you didn't go to Church
because you were just plain lazy, and busy doing other things.
* Five minutes after your death you will know for certain if you lived for Christ or yourself.
* Five minutes after your dead you will realize every earthly opportunity you got will be gone.
* Five minutes after your dead, your destiny will be fixed in Eternity.
* Five minutes after your dead you can't turn back or have another chance.
* Five minutes after your dead, sports and other things will not matter.
* Five minutes after your dead, the question is what really does matter?
* The longest five minutes of your life, you have an opportunity to change it.
* Take five minutes to know Jesus Christ if you don't.
* Take five minutes to get right with God if you are not right with Him now.
* Take five minutes to tell someone you love them, and give them a hug."
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The Emperor and The Seed
By Author Unknown
An emperor in the Far East was growing old and knew it was time to
choose his successor. Instead of choosing one of his assistants or
his
children, he decided something different. He called young people in
the
kingdom together one day. He said, "It is time for me to step down
and
choose the next emperor. I have decided to choose one of you."
The kids were shocked! But the emperor continued. "I am going to
give
each one of you a seed today. One very special seed. I want you to
plant
the seed, water it and come back here after one year from today with
what you h ave grown from this one seed. I will then judge the
plants
that you bring, and the one I choose will be the next emperor!"
One boy named Ling was there that day and he, like the others,
received
a seed. He went home and excitedly told his mother the story. She
helped
him get a pot and planting soil, and he planted the seed and watered
it
carefully. Every day he would water it and watch to see if it had
grown.
After about three weeks, some of the other youths began to talk
about
their seeds and the plants that were beginning to grow.
Ling kept checking his seed, but nothing ever grew. 3 weeks, 4
weeks, 5
weeks went by. Still nothing. By now, others were talking about
their
plants but Ling didn't have a plant, and he felt like a failure.
Six
months went by, still nothing in Ling's pot. He just knew he had
killed
his seed.
Everyone else had trees and tall plants, but he had nothing. Ling
didn't
say anything to h is friends, however. He just kept waiting for his
seed
to grow.
A year finally went by and all the youths of the kingdom brought
their
plants to the emperor for inspection. Ling told his mother that he
wasn't going to take an empty pot. But honest about what happened,
Ling
felt sick to his stomach, but he knew his mother was right. He took
his
empty pot to the palace. When Ling arrived, he was amazed at the
variety
of plants grown by the other youths. They were beautiful in all
shapes
and sizes. Ling put his empty pot on the floor and many of the other
kids laughed at him. A few felt sorry for him and just said, "Hey
nice
try."
When the emperor arrived, he surveyed the room and greeted the young
people. Ling just tried to hide in the back. "What great plants,
trees
and flowers you have grown," said the emperor. "Today, one of you
will
be appointed the next emperor!" All of a sudden, the emperor spotted
Ling at th e back of the room with his empty pot. He ordered his
guards
to bring him to the front. Ling was terrified. "The emperor knows
I'm a
failure! Maybe he will have me killed!"
When Ling got to the front, the Emperor asked his name. "My name is
Ling," he replied. All the kids were laughing and making fun of him.
The
emperor asked everyone to quiet down. He looked at Ling, and then
announced to the crowd, "Behold your new emperor! His name is Ling!"
Ling couldn't believe it. Ling couldn't even grow his seed. How
could he
be the new emperor?
Then the emperor said, "One year ago today, I gave everyone here a
seed.
I told you to take the seed, plant it, water it, and bring it back
to me
today. But I gave you all boiled seeds, which would not grow. All of
you, except Li have brought me trees and plants and flowers. When
you
found that the seed would not grow, you substituted another seed for
the
one I gave you. Ling was the only one with the courage and honesty
to
bring me a pot with my seed in it. Therefore, he is the one who will
be
the new emperor!"
If you plant honesty, you will reap trust.
If you plant goodness, you will reap friends.
If you plant humility, you will reap greatness.
If you plant perseverance, you will reap victory.
If you plant consideration, you will reap harmony.
If you plant hard work, you will reap success.
If you plant forgiveness, you will reap reconciliation.
If you plant openness, you will reap intimacy.
If you plant patience, you will reap improvements.
If you plant faith, y ou will reap miracles.
But
If you plant dishonesty, you will reap distrust.
If you plant selfishness, you will reap loneliness.
If you plant pride, you will reap destruction.
If you plant envy, you will reap trouble.
If you plant laziness, you will reap stagnation.
If you plant bitterness, you will reap isolation.
If you plant greed, you will reap loss.
If you plant gossip, you will reap enemies.
If you plant worries, you will reap wrinkles.
If you plant sin, you will reap guilt.
So be careful what you plant now, It will determine what you will
reap
tomorrow, The seeds y ou now scatter, Will make life worse or
better,
your life or the ones who will come after. Yes, someday, you will
enjoy
the fruits, or you will pay for the choices you plant today.
Have the courage to say no.
Have the courage to face the truth.
Do the right thing because it is right.
These are the magic keys to living your life with integrity."
W. Clement Stone
An emperor in the Far East was growing old and knew it was time to
choose his successor. Instead of choosing one of his assistants or
his
children, he decided something different. He called young people in
the
kingdom together one day. He said, "It is time for me to step down
and
choose the next emperor. I have decided to choose one of you."
The kids were shocked! But the emperor continued. "I am going to
give
each one of you a seed today. One very special seed. I want you to
plant
the seed, water it and come back here after one year from today with
what you h ave grown from this one seed. I will then judge the
plants
that you bring, and the one I choose will be the next emperor!"
One boy named Ling was there that day and he, like the others,
received
a seed. He went home and excitedly told his mother the story. She
helped
him get a pot and planting soil, and he planted the seed and watered
it
carefully. Every day he would water it and watch to see if it had
grown.
After about three weeks, some of the other youths began to talk
about
their seeds and the plants that were beginning to grow.
Ling kept checking his seed, but nothing ever grew. 3 weeks, 4
weeks, 5
weeks went by. Still nothing. By now, others were talking about
their
plants but Ling didn't have a plant, and he felt like a failure.
Six
months went by, still nothing in Ling's pot. He just knew he had
killed
his seed.
Everyone else had trees and tall plants, but he had nothing. Ling
didn't
say anything to h is friends, however. He just kept waiting for his
seed
to grow.
A year finally went by and all the youths of the kingdom brought
their
plants to the emperor for inspection. Ling told his mother that he
wasn't going to take an empty pot. But honest about what happened,
Ling
felt sick to his stomach, but he knew his mother was right. He took
his
empty pot to the palace. When Ling arrived, he was amazed at the
variety
of plants grown by the other youths. They were beautiful in all
shapes
and sizes. Ling put his empty pot on the floor and many of the other
kids laughed at him. A few felt sorry for him and just said, "Hey
nice
try."
When the emperor arrived, he surveyed the room and greeted the young
people. Ling just tried to hide in the back. "What great plants,
trees
and flowers you have grown," said the emperor. "Today, one of you
will
be appointed the next emperor!" All of a sudden, the emperor spotted
Ling at th e back of the room with his empty pot. He ordered his
guards
to bring him to the front. Ling was terrified. "The emperor knows
I'm a
failure! Maybe he will have me killed!"
When Ling got to the front, the Emperor asked his name. "My name is
Ling," he replied. All the kids were laughing and making fun of him.
The
emperor asked everyone to quiet down. He looked at Ling, and then
announced to the crowd, "Behold your new emperor! His name is Ling!"
Ling couldn't believe it. Ling couldn't even grow his seed. How
could he
be the new emperor?
Then the emperor said, "One year ago today, I gave everyone here a
seed.
I told you to take the seed, plant it, water it, and bring it back
to me
today. But I gave you all boiled seeds, which would not grow. All of
you, except Li have brought me trees and plants and flowers. When
you
found that the seed would not grow, you substituted another seed for
the
one I gave you. Ling was the only one with the courage and honesty
to
bring me a pot with my seed in it. Therefore, he is the one who will
be
the new emperor!"
If you plant honesty, you will reap trust.
If you plant goodness, you will reap friends.
If you plant humility, you will reap greatness.
If you plant perseverance, you will reap victory.
If you plant consideration, you will reap harmony.
If you plant hard work, you will reap success.
If you plant forgiveness, you will reap reconciliation.
If you plant openness, you will reap intimacy.
If you plant patience, you will reap improvements.
If you plant faith, y ou will reap miracles.
But
If you plant dishonesty, you will reap distrust.
If you plant selfishness, you will reap loneliness.
If you plant pride, you will reap destruction.
If you plant envy, you will reap trouble.
If you plant laziness, you will reap stagnation.
If you plant bitterness, you will reap isolation.
If you plant greed, you will reap loss.
If you plant gossip, you will reap enemies.
If you plant worries, you will reap wrinkles.
If you plant sin, you will reap guilt.
So be careful what you plant now, It will determine what you will
reap
tomorrow, The seeds y ou now scatter, Will make life worse or
better,
your life or the ones who will come after. Yes, someday, you will
enjoy
the fruits, or you will pay for the choices you plant today.
Have the courage to say no.
Have the courage to face the truth.
Do the right thing because it is right.
These are the magic keys to living your life with integrity."
W. Clement Stone
A Lesson of Letting Go and Acceptance
---unknown author---
Sometimes, in our relentless efforts to find the person we love we fail
to recognize and appreciate the people who love us. We miss out on so
many beautiful things and simply because we allow ourselves to be
enslaved by our own selfish concerns. Go for the man of deeds and not
for the man of words for you will find rewarding happiness not with the
man you love but the man who loves you more.
The best lovers are those who are capable of loving from a distance, far
enough to allow the other person to grow, but never too far to feel the
love deep within your being. To let go of someone doesn't mean you have
to stop loving, it only means that you allow that person to find his own
HAPPINESS without expecting him to come back. Letting go is not just
setting the other person free, but it is also setting yourself free from
all fears, bitterness, hatred,and anger that you keep in your heart.
Do not let the bitterness rare away your strength and weaken your faith,
and never allow pain to dishearten you, but rather let you grow with
wisdom in bearing it. You may have found peace in just loving someone
from a distance not expecting anything in return.
But be careful, for this can sustain life but can never give enough room
for us to grow. We can all survive with just beautiful memories of the
past but real peace and happiness come only with open acceptance of
what reality is today.
There comes a time in our lives when we chance upon someone so nice and
we just find ourselves getting so intensely attracted to that person.
This feeling soonbecome a part of our everyday lives and eventually
consumes our thoughts and actions. The sad part of it is when we begin
to realize that this person feels nothing more for us than just
friendship, or the feelings he might have for u is just too far from how
you love him. We start our desperate attempt to get noticed and be
closer but in the end our efforts are still unrewarded and we end up
being sorry for ourselves.
You don't have to be bitter on love. What you need to learn is how to
accept the verdict of reality without being bitter or sorry for yourself
Believe me, you would be better off giving that dedication and love to
someone more deserving. Don't let your heart run your life, be sensible
and let your mind speak for itself. Listen not only to your feelings but
to reason as well.
Always remember that if you lose someone today, it means that someone
better is coming tomorrow: If you lose love that doesn't mean that you
failed in love.
Cry, if you have to, but make it sure that the tears wash away the hurt
and the bitterness that the past has left with you. Let go of yesterday
and love will find its way back to you. And when it does, pray that it
may be the love that will stay and last a lifetime.
"When you lose someone... and you think you were the one who loved most,
between the two of you... he lost more. For someday you can love someone
the way that you loved him...But he will never be loved again the way
that you did."
Sometimes, in our relentless efforts to find the person we love we fail
to recognize and appreciate the people who love us. We miss out on so
many beautiful things and simply because we allow ourselves to be
enslaved by our own selfish concerns. Go for the man of deeds and not
for the man of words for you will find rewarding happiness not with the
man you love but the man who loves you more.
The best lovers are those who are capable of loving from a distance, far
enough to allow the other person to grow, but never too far to feel the
love deep within your being. To let go of someone doesn't mean you have
to stop loving, it only means that you allow that person to find his own
HAPPINESS without expecting him to come back. Letting go is not just
setting the other person free, but it is also setting yourself free from
all fears, bitterness, hatred,and anger that you keep in your heart.
Do not let the bitterness rare away your strength and weaken your faith,
and never allow pain to dishearten you, but rather let you grow with
wisdom in bearing it. You may have found peace in just loving someone
from a distance not expecting anything in return.
But be careful, for this can sustain life but can never give enough room
for us to grow. We can all survive with just beautiful memories of the
past but real peace and happiness come only with open acceptance of
what reality is today.
There comes a time in our lives when we chance upon someone so nice and
we just find ourselves getting so intensely attracted to that person.
This feeling soonbecome a part of our everyday lives and eventually
consumes our thoughts and actions. The sad part of it is when we begin
to realize that this person feels nothing more for us than just
friendship, or the feelings he might have for u is just too far from how
you love him. We start our desperate attempt to get noticed and be
closer but in the end our efforts are still unrewarded and we end up
being sorry for ourselves.
You don't have to be bitter on love. What you need to learn is how to
accept the verdict of reality without being bitter or sorry for yourself
Believe me, you would be better off giving that dedication and love to
someone more deserving. Don't let your heart run your life, be sensible
and let your mind speak for itself. Listen not only to your feelings but
to reason as well.
Always remember that if you lose someone today, it means that someone
better is coming tomorrow: If you lose love that doesn't mean that you
failed in love.
Cry, if you have to, but make it sure that the tears wash away the hurt
and the bitterness that the past has left with you. Let go of yesterday
and love will find its way back to you. And when it does, pray that it
may be the love that will stay and last a lifetime.
"When you lose someone... and you think you were the one who loved most,
between the two of you... he lost more. For someday you can love someone
the way that you loved him...But he will never be loved again the way
that you did."
Memory
"The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and
proud lady, who is fully dressed
each morning by eight o'clock, with her
hair fashionably coifed and makeup
perfectly applied, even though she is
legally blind, moved to a nursing
home today.
Her husband of 70 years recently passed
away, making the move necessary.
After many hours of waiting patiently in
the lobby of the nursing home,
she smiled sweetly when told her room was
ready.
As she maneuvered her walker to the
elevator, I provided a visual
description of her tiny room, including the
eyelet sheets that had been
hung on her window.
"I love it," she stated with the enthusiasm
of an eight-year-old having
just been presented with a new puppy.
"Mrs. Jo nes, you haven't seen the room ..
just wait."
"That doesn't have anything to do with it,"
she replied.
"Happiness is something you decide on ahead
of time. Whether I like my
room or not doesn't depend on how the
furniture is arranged... it's
how I arrange my mind.
I already decided to love it. It's a
decision I make every morning when I
wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the
day in bed recounting the
difficulty I have with the parts of my body
that no longer work, or get
out of bed and be thankful for the ones
that do.
Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes
open I'll focus on the
new day
and all the happy memories I've stored away
just for this time in my life.
Old age is like a bank account: you
withdraw from what yo u've put
in.
So, my advice to you would be to deposit a
lot of happiness in the bank
account of memories.
Thank you for your part in filling my
Memory bank. I am still depositing."
Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less"
proud lady, who is fully dressed
each morning by eight o'clock, with her
hair fashionably coifed and makeup
perfectly applied, even though she is
legally blind, moved to a nursing
home today.
Her husband of 70 years recently passed
away, making the move necessary.
After many hours of waiting patiently in
the lobby of the nursing home,
she smiled sweetly when told her room was
ready.
As she maneuvered her walker to the
elevator, I provided a visual
description of her tiny room, including the
eyelet sheets that had been
hung on her window.
"I love it," she stated with the enthusiasm
of an eight-year-old having
just been presented with a new puppy.
"Mrs. Jo nes, you haven't seen the room ..
just wait."
"That doesn't have anything to do with it,"
she replied.
"Happiness is something you decide on ahead
of time. Whether I like my
room or not doesn't depend on how the
furniture is arranged... it's
how I arrange my mind.
I already decided to love it. It's a
decision I make every morning when I
wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the
day in bed recounting the
difficulty I have with the parts of my body
that no longer work, or get
out of bed and be thankful for the ones
that do.
Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes
open I'll focus on the
new day
and all the happy memories I've stored away
just for this time in my life.
Old age is like a bank account: you
withdraw from what yo u've put
in.
So, my advice to you would be to deposit a
lot of happiness in the bank
account of memories.
Thank you for your part in filling my
Memory bank. I am still depositing."
Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less"
The Perfect Person
By: J. M. Whitaker
For as long as long as I can remember, I have been searching for the perfect girl. Since I was old enough to begin longing for female companionship, I have been on the hunt. I guess it started out as just a simple dream or fantasy, not unlike most of us. The strange thing about it was that it never stayed just a dream or a fantasy. The more people I dated, the more times I was let down, the more I hungered for that perfect person, the one that would fill all of my needs and desires, the one that would never let me down.
I dated girl after girl. Some of them were great while others got me into some trouble. Some of them made me laugh, but a lot of them made me cry. Through my journey, I found a lot of joy and a lot of sorrow, a lot of happiness and a lot of pain, but never the perfect girl. I had dreamed about her. Dark hair, darker eyes, a slim figure tinted golden brown from the sun. She had an accent and could play the cello. She would love to talk, but wouldn't expect me to talk too much. She would always ask me how my day was and would always have a smile on her face; absolute perfection.
I began to devise methods in how I would meet the girls I would date. I knew I wanted an intelligent girl, so I hung out in libraries and museums. I meet this real crazy girl at a library after school one day. She was smart and sexy and, well? crazy. I would rather not go into a lot of details about it. Let's just say she had some real deep-seated anxieties about our relationship and, consequentially, our break up.
I knew I wanted an artistic girl, so I went to music stores and coffee shops, I even tried a couple of classical concerts. I met this wonderfully cute girl who dressed really darkand loved to write poetry. She was great, we used to stay up all night long talking about the silliest things, but she ended up dumping me for some guy who did drugs and rode a motorcycle.
I got into a car accident with a girl driving a Pontiac Sunfire. She had no driver's license or car insurance, but she did have a really great smile and the prettiest hair. Instead of calling the police, we called in sick and went out to eat. We dated for a while but eventually came across an irreconcilable difference in opinions. She didn't always feel the need to come "straight home" after work. Okay, to be honest, toward the end of our relationship, she rarely came home at all.
Then there was the girl from the International House of Pancakes. She was an exact replica of my personality. I mean if you had met us both over some Internet chat room, you would swear we were the same person using multiple screen-names. Sounds sweet, huh? Have you ever considered marrying yourself? Have you ever thought about growing old together, just you and yourself? We both found that the whole idea of finding that "perfect person" was to find someone different from yourself to fulfill the empty spots within you.
I searched every where. I left no rock unturned, no leaf moved aside, but to no avail. After much pain and heartache, I began to believe that the perfect girl just did not exist. Then one day, I found her.
Her name was Malia. She was from Hawaii, raised in Italy. She wore silk pajama pants to bed. She had written a novel. She loved the beach and hated cats, just like me. She had silky, dark and curly hair that swayed perfectly if the breeze was right. She had a caramel colored body, etched out of a block of pure perfection, and her face was that of an angel. From the very first time I saw her, I could not seem to take my eyes away from hers. She was like a siren, calling my name, beckoning me closer to her, even when she was asleep. The attraction was complete, with no faults, no annoyances. Every time she spoke she mesmerized me and every time she moved she amazed me. She was... well, perfect. Oh, and did I mention she played the cello?
We spent all the extra time we had together. We spent so much time together that we decided to move in together. We were paying rent on two places, but one of them was doing nothing but collecting dust. We would sit on the porch when it rained and hold each other. We would lay on the beach and soak up a sweet combination of sunrays and pina coladas. Life was good. No, life was perfect and I knew it just couldn't possibly get any better than it was right then and there.
Two years later, Malia left me for a career-opportunity at a really prominent university in Europe. There were no harsh words, no angry feelings, not even any sad good-byes. She was so perfect that if she wanted to leave, I wanted it for her. That is, until she was gone.
I cried for days, and began to drink for weeks after that. I felt as if my life was over, that the only reason that I had existed was gone, and every breath I took from that moment on was a futile attempt to hold on to something I later found I never had: The Perfect Love.
Malia was perfect. She was perfect in each and every single way, but I was not. Our love for each other was a deeply committed one, but it was far from perfect. I know that now, but if I could go back in time to tell myself that in an attempt to save myself from all of that pain and suffering, I fear I would not have listened to myself.
I slept with many women, sometimes a different girl every week. I drank excessively and spent all of my money on temporary satisfaction. Anything to ease the pain. But the pain did not ease, it only grew stronger. It became a vicious circle of self-inflicted torture that eventually brought me to my knees and forced me to open my eyes to the real world. But not before it made me a bitter man.
I was wiser, but to this day, the decisions made left a coldness in my eyes that made my heart appear as lead to anyone who dared look. I became a loner, staying home on the weekends, saving my money for a healthy but lonely retirement, having accepted my fate. I was to be alone for the rest of my life.
>Kathy with a K. Actually, her name is spelled Kathyrn. Quite peculiar, but I didn't think so until later. For the longest time, I never even knew her name. But she was a sight for sore and lonely eyes. I saw her at work. I was her boss (actually, I was her boss' boss) and did not want to risk the chance of even speaking to her. She was just too beautiful, and I had become a beast with a past too horrible to mention. I would just watch her as she passed my office every day. She didn't walk, she frolicked, and I would sneak out for a break whenever she did just to watch that frolicking. She smiled every time someone spoke to her, a smile like the early morning sun, and her eyes were so dark that you couldn't see her pupils, only the glimmering from the light that made her eyes look like two bright stars. I was under her spell and I didn't even know her name.
One day, watching her outside, I convinced myself to ask around about her. Find out her name and maybe even find out if she was seeing someone. Just as I had decided that she spoke to me.
Kathy with a K. She ended up asking me out, you know. I told her I couldn't that night because I had to work late. Actually, I was too scared. I called her and asked her if she wanted to go to Starbucks after work the next day and she agreed. It turned out to be the most romantic night of both of our lives. We were both still pretty new in town and didn't really know our way around. I had no idea what I was going to do or where I was going to take her next so I winged it the whole way. Like I said, it turned out to be the most romantic night of both of our lives. It was perfect.
She was not perfect, but neither was I. We both carried a truckload of emotional baggage and we both had a mountain of flaws. But it was perfect. She would always forget to plug in her cell phone at night, but I would always remind her. I couldn't do laundry worth a flip, but she showed me how. She could never get to work on time, and she hated to drive, but we both had to be at work on time so I drove us both there. Whenever she was slacking I was always right over her shoulder, and when I would lose track of what I was trying to do, she would help to keep me focused. We complimented each other in every single way. Neither of us was perfect, but we were perfect for each other.
When you're out there looking for that perfect person keep these things in mind. People change, no matter how hard they try not to. As you grow older you mature, and with each new level of maturity come different ideas, different needs and wants. The person who was perfect for you at twenty could be the person you hate when you're thirty-five. You have to find some one who will grow with you, change with you, laugh with you and cry with you. A person who fills in where you lack, a person whom you can fill in for when they are lacking. But what about the perfect person, you ask? They do not exist. Even Malia was not perfect because the perfect girl in my dreams was supposed to stay with me. There are no perfect people, only people who are perfect for each other.
"i always thought that love was something i'd know the minute itappeared. That there would be drumrolls and bells ringing as love sweptme off my feet. No one told me how quietly love could appear, or how humbly. That someday i'd look up and there it would be, waiting for me in a pair of familiar eyes... I never expected i'd find somebody to love in you... i guess i never knew love the way i do now. "
For as long as long as I can remember, I have been searching for the perfect girl. Since I was old enough to begin longing for female companionship, I have been on the hunt. I guess it started out as just a simple dream or fantasy, not unlike most of us. The strange thing about it was that it never stayed just a dream or a fantasy. The more people I dated, the more times I was let down, the more I hungered for that perfect person, the one that would fill all of my needs and desires, the one that would never let me down.
I dated girl after girl. Some of them were great while others got me into some trouble. Some of them made me laugh, but a lot of them made me cry. Through my journey, I found a lot of joy and a lot of sorrow, a lot of happiness and a lot of pain, but never the perfect girl. I had dreamed about her. Dark hair, darker eyes, a slim figure tinted golden brown from the sun. She had an accent and could play the cello. She would love to talk, but wouldn't expect me to talk too much. She would always ask me how my day was and would always have a smile on her face; absolute perfection.
I began to devise methods in how I would meet the girls I would date. I knew I wanted an intelligent girl, so I hung out in libraries and museums. I meet this real crazy girl at a library after school one day. She was smart and sexy and, well? crazy. I would rather not go into a lot of details about it. Let's just say she had some real deep-seated anxieties about our relationship and, consequentially, our break up.
I knew I wanted an artistic girl, so I went to music stores and coffee shops, I even tried a couple of classical concerts. I met this wonderfully cute girl who dressed really darkand loved to write poetry. She was great, we used to stay up all night long talking about the silliest things, but she ended up dumping me for some guy who did drugs and rode a motorcycle.
I got into a car accident with a girl driving a Pontiac Sunfire. She had no driver's license or car insurance, but she did have a really great smile and the prettiest hair. Instead of calling the police, we called in sick and went out to eat. We dated for a while but eventually came across an irreconcilable difference in opinions. She didn't always feel the need to come "straight home" after work. Okay, to be honest, toward the end of our relationship, she rarely came home at all.
Then there was the girl from the International House of Pancakes. She was an exact replica of my personality. I mean if you had met us both over some Internet chat room, you would swear we were the same person using multiple screen-names. Sounds sweet, huh? Have you ever considered marrying yourself? Have you ever thought about growing old together, just you and yourself? We both found that the whole idea of finding that "perfect person" was to find someone different from yourself to fulfill the empty spots within you.
I searched every where. I left no rock unturned, no leaf moved aside, but to no avail. After much pain and heartache, I began to believe that the perfect girl just did not exist. Then one day, I found her.
Her name was Malia. She was from Hawaii, raised in Italy. She wore silk pajama pants to bed. She had written a novel. She loved the beach and hated cats, just like me. She had silky, dark and curly hair that swayed perfectly if the breeze was right. She had a caramel colored body, etched out of a block of pure perfection, and her face was that of an angel. From the very first time I saw her, I could not seem to take my eyes away from hers. She was like a siren, calling my name, beckoning me closer to her, even when she was asleep. The attraction was complete, with no faults, no annoyances. Every time she spoke she mesmerized me and every time she moved she amazed me. She was... well, perfect. Oh, and did I mention she played the cello?
We spent all the extra time we had together. We spent so much time together that we decided to move in together. We were paying rent on two places, but one of them was doing nothing but collecting dust. We would sit on the porch when it rained and hold each other. We would lay on the beach and soak up a sweet combination of sunrays and pina coladas. Life was good. No, life was perfect and I knew it just couldn't possibly get any better than it was right then and there.
Two years later, Malia left me for a career-opportunity at a really prominent university in Europe. There were no harsh words, no angry feelings, not even any sad good-byes. She was so perfect that if she wanted to leave, I wanted it for her. That is, until she was gone.
I cried for days, and began to drink for weeks after that. I felt as if my life was over, that the only reason that I had existed was gone, and every breath I took from that moment on was a futile attempt to hold on to something I later found I never had: The Perfect Love.
Malia was perfect. She was perfect in each and every single way, but I was not. Our love for each other was a deeply committed one, but it was far from perfect. I know that now, but if I could go back in time to tell myself that in an attempt to save myself from all of that pain and suffering, I fear I would not have listened to myself.
I slept with many women, sometimes a different girl every week. I drank excessively and spent all of my money on temporary satisfaction. Anything to ease the pain. But the pain did not ease, it only grew stronger. It became a vicious circle of self-inflicted torture that eventually brought me to my knees and forced me to open my eyes to the real world. But not before it made me a bitter man.
I was wiser, but to this day, the decisions made left a coldness in my eyes that made my heart appear as lead to anyone who dared look. I became a loner, staying home on the weekends, saving my money for a healthy but lonely retirement, having accepted my fate. I was to be alone for the rest of my life.
>Kathy with a K. Actually, her name is spelled Kathyrn. Quite peculiar, but I didn't think so until later. For the longest time, I never even knew her name. But she was a sight for sore and lonely eyes. I saw her at work. I was her boss (actually, I was her boss' boss) and did not want to risk the chance of even speaking to her. She was just too beautiful, and I had become a beast with a past too horrible to mention. I would just watch her as she passed my office every day. She didn't walk, she frolicked, and I would sneak out for a break whenever she did just to watch that frolicking. She smiled every time someone spoke to her, a smile like the early morning sun, and her eyes were so dark that you couldn't see her pupils, only the glimmering from the light that made her eyes look like two bright stars. I was under her spell and I didn't even know her name.
One day, watching her outside, I convinced myself to ask around about her. Find out her name and maybe even find out if she was seeing someone. Just as I had decided that she spoke to me.
Kathy with a K. She ended up asking me out, you know. I told her I couldn't that night because I had to work late. Actually, I was too scared. I called her and asked her if she wanted to go to Starbucks after work the next day and she agreed. It turned out to be the most romantic night of both of our lives. We were both still pretty new in town and didn't really know our way around. I had no idea what I was going to do or where I was going to take her next so I winged it the whole way. Like I said, it turned out to be the most romantic night of both of our lives. It was perfect.
She was not perfect, but neither was I. We both carried a truckload of emotional baggage and we both had a mountain of flaws. But it was perfect. She would always forget to plug in her cell phone at night, but I would always remind her. I couldn't do laundry worth a flip, but she showed me how. She could never get to work on time, and she hated to drive, but we both had to be at work on time so I drove us both there. Whenever she was slacking I was always right over her shoulder, and when I would lose track of what I was trying to do, she would help to keep me focused. We complimented each other in every single way. Neither of us was perfect, but we were perfect for each other.
When you're out there looking for that perfect person keep these things in mind. People change, no matter how hard they try not to. As you grow older you mature, and with each new level of maturity come different ideas, different needs and wants. The person who was perfect for you at twenty could be the person you hate when you're thirty-five. You have to find some one who will grow with you, change with you, laugh with you and cry with you. A person who fills in where you lack, a person whom you can fill in for when they are lacking. But what about the perfect person, you ask? They do not exist. Even Malia was not perfect because the perfect girl in my dreams was supposed to stay with me. There are no perfect people, only people who are perfect for each other.
"i always thought that love was something i'd know the minute itappeared. That there would be drumrolls and bells ringing as love sweptme off my feet. No one told me how quietly love could appear, or how humbly. That someday i'd look up and there it would be, waiting for me in a pair of familiar eyes... I never expected i'd find somebody to love in you... i guess i never knew love the way i do now. "
Smile
again.... ----unknown author---
"I am a mother of three (ages 14, 12, 3) and have recently completed my college degree.
The last class I had to take was Sociology.
The teacher was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human being had been graced with.
Her last project of the term was called "Smile."
The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document their reactions.
I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say hello anyway, so, I thought this would be a piece of cake, literally.
Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonald's one crisp March morning.
It was just our way of sharing special playtime with our son.
We were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and then even my husband did.
I did not move an inch... an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved.
As I turned around I smelled a horrible "dirty body" smell, and there standing behind me were two poor homeless men.
As I looked down at the short gentleman, close to me, he was "smiling".
His beautiful sky blue eyes were full of God's Light as he searched for acceptance.
He said, "Good day" as he counted the few coins he had been clutching.
The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally challenged and the blue-eyed gentleman was his salvation.
I held my tears as I stood there with them.
The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted.
He said, "Coffee is all Miss" because that was all they could afford. (If they wanted to sit in the restaurant and warm up, they had to buy something. He just wanted to be warm).
Then I really felt it - the compulsion was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with the blue eyes.
That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me, judging my every action.
I smiled and asked the young lady b ehind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray.
I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue-eyed gentleman's cold hand.
He looked up at me, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Thank you."
I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, "I did not do this for you. God is here working through me to give you hope."
I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son. When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, "That is why God gave you to me, Honey, to give me hope."
We held hands for a moment and at that time, we knew that only because of the Grace that we had been given were we able to give.
We are not church goers, but we are believers.
That day showed me the pure Light of God's sweet love.
I returned to college, on the last evening of class, with this story in hand.
I turned in "m y project" and the instructor read it.
Then she looked up at me and said, "Can I share this?"
I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class.
She began to read and that is when I knew that we as human beings and being part of God share this need to heal people and to be healed.
In my own way I had touched the people at McDonald's, my husband, son, instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night I spent as a college student.
I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn: UNCONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE.
Much love and compassion is sent to each and every person who may read this and learn how to LO VE PEOPLE AND USE THINGS - NOT LOVE THINGS AND USE PEOPLE."
"I am a mother of three (ages 14, 12, 3) and have recently completed my college degree.
The last class I had to take was Sociology.
The teacher was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human being had been graced with.
Her last project of the term was called "Smile."
The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document their reactions.
I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say hello anyway, so, I thought this would be a piece of cake, literally.
Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonald's one crisp March morning.
It was just our way of sharing special playtime with our son.
We were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and then even my husband did.
I did not move an inch... an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved.
As I turned around I smelled a horrible "dirty body" smell, and there standing behind me were two poor homeless men.
As I looked down at the short gentleman, close to me, he was "smiling".
His beautiful sky blue eyes were full of God's Light as he searched for acceptance.
He said, "Good day" as he counted the few coins he had been clutching.
The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally challenged and the blue-eyed gentleman was his salvation.
I held my tears as I stood there with them.
The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted.
He said, "Coffee is all Miss" because that was all they could afford. (If they wanted to sit in the restaurant and warm up, they had to buy something. He just wanted to be warm).
Then I really felt it - the compulsion was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with the blue eyes.
That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me, judging my every action.
I smiled and asked the young lady b ehind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray.
I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue-eyed gentleman's cold hand.
He looked up at me, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Thank you."
I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, "I did not do this for you. God is here working through me to give you hope."
I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son. When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, "That is why God gave you to me, Honey, to give me hope."
We held hands for a moment and at that time, we knew that only because of the Grace that we had been given were we able to give.
We are not church goers, but we are believers.
That day showed me the pure Light of God's sweet love.
I returned to college, on the last evening of class, with this story in hand.
I turned in "m y project" and the instructor read it.
Then she looked up at me and said, "Can I share this?"
I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class.
She began to read and that is when I knew that we as human beings and being part of God share this need to heal people and to be healed.
In my own way I had touched the people at McDonald's, my husband, son, instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night I spent as a college student.
I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn: UNCONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE.
Much love and compassion is sent to each and every person who may read this and learn how to LO VE PEOPLE AND USE THINGS - NOT LOVE THINGS AND USE PEOPLE."
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Shoes
nice analogy =)
1. The overused shoes
When I went to Davao for Christmas vacation in 2001,
I found what I think was the best shoes I've ever
had. It was a blue and white slip-ons with a flower
on its strap. Margay ang tatak niya. Ang tagal ko na
naghanap ng blue na kikay slip-ons at doon ko lang
sa Gaisano Davao nahanap iyun. And I bought the
shoes for 500 lang! Feeling ko pa, suwerte ako dahil
last pair na iyun. And it was my size!
Sobrang natuwa ako sa kikay kong sapatos. At
napakalambot niya! I wore the shoes everyday because
they would match anything... denim, slacks, capri
pants, skirt, dress. Gamit ko siya in the office, at
the mall, in church, even at the beach!
Dahil araw-araw ko siyang nagamit, at nasuot ko na
siya sa kung saan, it was expected na wala pang
isang taon ay sira na siya. Sabi ko, okay lang. May
Margay naman sa Robinsons saka sa Landmark, siguro
naman may ganoong style pa sila. Ngunit napuntahan
ko na lahat ng display ng Margay pero wala akong
nakitang katulad nang nabili ko sa Davao .
Nakadalawang uwi na ako sa Davao at pumupunta ako sa
Gaisano, umaasang may makikita akong ganoon klaseng
sapatos. Hindi na nga ako naghahangad ng eksaktong
ganoon eh. Kahit na kamukha lang o kasing-lambot
lang, okay na. Kaso wala.
Iyong kikay blue Margay na slip-ons ko -- na
malambot at may naka-angat na bulaklak sa strap, na
bagay sa kahit anong damit ko -- ay sira na ngayon.
Hindi lang siya sira, nangingitim na sa dumi, at
hindi na kayang i-glue ang punit na talampakan. Pero
hindi ko pa siya maitapon-tapon. Hindi ko alam kung
bakit. Alam ko hindi ko na siya maisusuot uli, pero
may reminder naman ako na once upon a time, I had a
perfect pair of shoes. Hindi ko nga lang inalagaan.
Lesson learned:
Kapag nahanap mo na ang bagay o tao na sa tingin mo
ay perfect na para sa iyo, ingatan at alagaan mo.
Huwag mong abusuhin. Kapag nawala sila, baka wala ka
nang mahahanap na kapalit. At habambuhay mo na lang
iisipin na " sana , inalaagaan ko siya."
2. The "maganda siya pero masakit" shoes
May fini-fit ako noon na sapatos sa Celine. Okay
lang ang presyo. Maganda ang material. Kikay ang
hitsura. At kapag suot ko, nakaka-sexy ng paa. May
isang problema nga lang... masakit sa paa.
Pero cutie kasi siya eh. Saka on sale. At sadyang
matigas ang ulo ko. Kaya ayun, binili ko.>
Sa umpisa, okay lang naman. Keri ko. Saka masakit
naman talaga sa paa ang bagong sapatos. Pero habang
lumilipas ang oras, lalong sumasakit. Hindi siya
meant sa pangmatagalang suot. Habang suot ko siya,
parang gusto kong umiyak sa tuwing humahakbang ako.
Pagdating ko ng bahay, puro sugat at galos ang paa
ko. At ilang linggo din akong may peklat sa paa
dahil sa diyaskeng sapatos na iyun.
Kapag sa umpisa pa lang, alam mo na masakit na sa
paa at hindi mo puwedeng suotin ng matagalan, huwag
mo nang bilhin. Bakit mo pa itutuloy kung alam mong
masasaktan ka lamang kapag sinuot mo?
Parang pakikipag-relasyon din iyan eh. May mga
lalake na good on paper, bagay sa iyo, tipo mo nga
eh. Ang kaso, panandalian lang siya. "Boylet" lang
kasi unavailable siya. Bakit mo pa itutuloy kong
alam mong eventually ay masasaktan ka lang? Sana ,
habang maaga pa, iwasan mo na.
Lesson learned:
Kung sa umpisa pa lang, alam mo na masasaktan ka
lamang sa bandang huli, huwag mo nang ituloy. Baka
mag-iwan pa iyan ng scar na hindi mo na maaaalis
kailan man.
3. The shoes that got away
May nakita akong magandang sandals sa Landmark. Mura
lang, less than 500 lang siguro. Kakaiba din siya
kasi hindi siya iyong style na makikita mo sa
babaeng katabi mo sa MRT. Black and white siya.
Polka dots ang strap niya pero hindi cheap ang
dating. Ang kikay nga eh. tapos, two inches iyong
heels niya. Sinukat ko minsan, ang ganda sa paa!
Kaya lang, hindi ko siya binili. Kasi, kakaiba siya
eh. Mahirap hanapan ng ka-match na damit at bag.
Saka kakabili ko lang kasi ng isang sandals kaya
sabi ko, next pay day ko na lang bibilhin ang polka
dots na sapatos na yun.
Madalas akong dumaan sa Landmark at nakikita ko ang
sapatos na gusto ko bilhin pero hindi ko
mabili-bili. Ilang pay day na ang dumaan pero hindi
ko pa rin siya kinukuha para iuwi. Hanggang sa
dumating ang oras na kailangan ko ng isang kikay na
sandals na may print. Naisip ko agad ang polka-dots
na matagal ko na gusto bilihin. Pero pag-punta ko sa
Landmark, wala na siya doon. Naubos na. Ang ending,
napabili ako ng ibang printed na sapatos na hindi ko
naman talaga gusto pero wala akong choice kasi
kailangan ko na nga.
Lesson learned:
Kung magpapaligaya sa atin ang isang bagay, seize
the day! Sa kaka-delay, baka mawala lang sa atin ito
at mauuwi tayong nagse-settle sa hindi naman talaga
natin gusto. Mas mahirap pagsisihan ang mga bagay na
hindi mo ginawa. Wala na yatang mas masakit pa sa
thought na abot-kamay mo na lang, pero pinalampas mo
pa.
Sino ba naman mag-aakalang may mapupulot pala akong
leksyon sa mga sapatos? Kaya nga panay bili ko eh,
para mas marami pa akong matutunan. Sa susunod, I
will find lessons from bags naman para ma-justify
din kung bakit sandamakmak ang bags ko.
- anonymous -
1. The overused shoes
When I went to Davao for Christmas vacation in 2001,
I found what I think was the best shoes I've ever
had. It was a blue and white slip-ons with a flower
on its strap. Margay ang tatak niya. Ang tagal ko na
naghanap ng blue na kikay slip-ons at doon ko lang
sa Gaisano Davao nahanap iyun. And I bought the
shoes for 500 lang! Feeling ko pa, suwerte ako dahil
last pair na iyun. And it was my size!
Sobrang natuwa ako sa kikay kong sapatos. At
napakalambot niya! I wore the shoes everyday because
they would match anything... denim, slacks, capri
pants, skirt, dress. Gamit ko siya in the office, at
the mall, in church, even at the beach!
Dahil araw-araw ko siyang nagamit, at nasuot ko na
siya sa kung saan, it was expected na wala pang
isang taon ay sira na siya. Sabi ko, okay lang. May
Margay naman sa Robinsons saka sa Landmark, siguro
naman may ganoong style pa sila. Ngunit napuntahan
ko na lahat ng display ng Margay pero wala akong
nakitang katulad nang nabili ko sa Davao .
Nakadalawang uwi na ako sa Davao at pumupunta ako sa
Gaisano, umaasang may makikita akong ganoon klaseng
sapatos. Hindi na nga ako naghahangad ng eksaktong
ganoon eh. Kahit na kamukha lang o kasing-lambot
lang, okay na. Kaso wala.
Iyong kikay blue Margay na slip-ons ko -- na
malambot at may naka-angat na bulaklak sa strap, na
bagay sa kahit anong damit ko -- ay sira na ngayon.
Hindi lang siya sira, nangingitim na sa dumi, at
hindi na kayang i-glue ang punit na talampakan. Pero
hindi ko pa siya maitapon-tapon. Hindi ko alam kung
bakit. Alam ko hindi ko na siya maisusuot uli, pero
may reminder naman ako na once upon a time, I had a
perfect pair of shoes. Hindi ko nga lang inalagaan.
Lesson learned:
Kapag nahanap mo na ang bagay o tao na sa tingin mo
ay perfect na para sa iyo, ingatan at alagaan mo.
Huwag mong abusuhin. Kapag nawala sila, baka wala ka
nang mahahanap na kapalit. At habambuhay mo na lang
iisipin na " sana , inalaagaan ko siya."
2. The "maganda siya pero masakit" shoes
May fini-fit ako noon na sapatos sa Celine. Okay
lang ang presyo. Maganda ang material. Kikay ang
hitsura. At kapag suot ko, nakaka-sexy ng paa. May
isang problema nga lang... masakit sa paa.
Pero cutie kasi siya eh. Saka on sale. At sadyang
matigas ang ulo ko. Kaya ayun, binili ko.>
Sa umpisa, okay lang naman. Keri ko. Saka masakit
naman talaga sa paa ang bagong sapatos. Pero habang
lumilipas ang oras, lalong sumasakit. Hindi siya
meant sa pangmatagalang suot. Habang suot ko siya,
parang gusto kong umiyak sa tuwing humahakbang ako.
Pagdating ko ng bahay, puro sugat at galos ang paa
ko. At ilang linggo din akong may peklat sa paa
dahil sa diyaskeng sapatos na iyun.
Kapag sa umpisa pa lang, alam mo na masakit na sa
paa at hindi mo puwedeng suotin ng matagalan, huwag
mo nang bilhin. Bakit mo pa itutuloy kung alam mong
masasaktan ka lamang kapag sinuot mo?
Parang pakikipag-relasyon din iyan eh. May mga
lalake na good on paper, bagay sa iyo, tipo mo nga
eh. Ang kaso, panandalian lang siya. "Boylet" lang
kasi unavailable siya. Bakit mo pa itutuloy kong
alam mong eventually ay masasaktan ka lang? Sana ,
habang maaga pa, iwasan mo na.
Lesson learned:
Kung sa umpisa pa lang, alam mo na masasaktan ka
lamang sa bandang huli, huwag mo nang ituloy. Baka
mag-iwan pa iyan ng scar na hindi mo na maaaalis
kailan man.
3. The shoes that got away
May nakita akong magandang sandals sa Landmark. Mura
lang, less than 500 lang siguro. Kakaiba din siya
kasi hindi siya iyong style na makikita mo sa
babaeng katabi mo sa MRT. Black and white siya.
Polka dots ang strap niya pero hindi cheap ang
dating. Ang kikay nga eh. tapos, two inches iyong
heels niya. Sinukat ko minsan, ang ganda sa paa!
Kaya lang, hindi ko siya binili. Kasi, kakaiba siya
eh. Mahirap hanapan ng ka-match na damit at bag.
Saka kakabili ko lang kasi ng isang sandals kaya
sabi ko, next pay day ko na lang bibilhin ang polka
dots na sapatos na yun.
Madalas akong dumaan sa Landmark at nakikita ko ang
sapatos na gusto ko bilhin pero hindi ko
mabili-bili. Ilang pay day na ang dumaan pero hindi
ko pa rin siya kinukuha para iuwi. Hanggang sa
dumating ang oras na kailangan ko ng isang kikay na
sandals na may print. Naisip ko agad ang polka-dots
na matagal ko na gusto bilihin. Pero pag-punta ko sa
Landmark, wala na siya doon. Naubos na. Ang ending,
napabili ako ng ibang printed na sapatos na hindi ko
naman talaga gusto pero wala akong choice kasi
kailangan ko na nga.
Lesson learned:
Kung magpapaligaya sa atin ang isang bagay, seize
the day! Sa kaka-delay, baka mawala lang sa atin ito
at mauuwi tayong nagse-settle sa hindi naman talaga
natin gusto. Mas mahirap pagsisihan ang mga bagay na
hindi mo ginawa. Wala na yatang mas masakit pa sa
thought na abot-kamay mo na lang, pero pinalampas mo
pa.
Sino ba naman mag-aakalang may mapupulot pala akong
leksyon sa mga sapatos? Kaya nga panay bili ko eh,
para mas marami pa akong matutunan. Sa susunod, I
will find lessons from bags naman para ma-justify
din kung bakit sandamakmak ang bags ko.
- anonymous -
A Love Story
----Unknown Author----
Cruel misunderstandings one after another disrupted the blissful footsteps
to our family. Our original intend of having Mother enjoy some quiet and
peaceful moments in her remaining ears with us went terribly wrong as
destiny's secret is finally revealed at a price, every thing became too
late.
Just two years after our marriage, hubby brought up the idea of asking
Mother to move from the rural hometown and spend her remaining years with
us.
Hubby's father passed away while he was still very young. Mother endured
much hardship and struggled all on her own to provide for him, see him
through to a university degree. You could say that she suffered a great
deal and did everything you could expect of a woman to bring hubby to
where
he is today.
I immediately agreed and started packing the spare room, which has a
balcony
facing the South to let her enjoy the sunshine and plant some greenery.
Hubby stood in the bright room, and suddenly just picked me up and started
spinning round and round.
As I begged him to put me down, he said: "Lets go fetch mother."
Hubby is tall and big sized and I love to rest on his chest and enjoy the
feeling that he could pick me up at any moment put the tiny me into his
pockets.
Whenever we have an argument and both refuses to back down, he would pick
me
up and spin me over his head continuously until I surrender and beg for
mercy. I became addicted to this kind of panic-joy feeling.
Mother brought along her countryside ! habits and lifestyle with her.
For example; I am so used to buying flowers to decorate the living room,
she
could not stand it and would comment: "I do not know how you young people
spend your money, why do you buy flowers for? You also can't eat the
flowers!"
I smiled and said: "Mum, with flowers in the house, our mood will also
become better."
Mother continues to grumble away, and hubby smiled: "Mum, this is a
city-people's habit; slowly you will get use to it."
Mother stopped saying anything.
But every time thereafter, whenever I came home with flowers, she would
ask
me how much it costs. I told her and she would shake her head and express
displeasure. Sometimes, when I come home with lots of shopping bags, she
would ask each and every item how much they cost, I would tell her
honestly
and she would get even more upset about it.
Hubby playfully pinched my nose and said: "You little fool, just don't
tell
her the full price of everything would solve it."
There begins the friction to our otherwise happy lifestyle. Mother hates
it
most when hubby wakes up early to prepare the breakfast.
In your view, how could the man of the house cook for the wife? At the
breakfast table, mother facial _expression is always like the dark clouds
before a thunderstorm and I would pretend not to notice.
She would use her chopsticks and make a lot of noise with it as her silent
protest.
As I am a dance teacher in the Children's Palace and is exhausted from a
long day of dancing around, I do not wish to give up the luxury of that
additional few minutes in the comfort of my bed and hence I turned a deaf
ear to all the protest mother makes.
From time to time, mother would help out with some housework, but soon her
help created additional work for me.
For example, she would keep all kinds of plastic bags accumulating them so
that she sell them later on, and that resulted in our house being filled
with all the trash bags.
She would scrimp on dishwashing detergent when helping to wash the dishes
and so as not to hurt her feelings, I would quietly wash them again.
One day, late at night, mother saw me quietly washing the dishes, and
"Bam"
she slams her bedroom door and cried very loudly in her room.
Hubby was placed in a difficult position, and after that, he did not speak
to me for that entire night. I pretended to be a spoilt child, tried
acting
cute, but he totally ignored me.
I got mad and asked him: "What did I do wrong?"
Hubby stared at me and said: "Can't you just give in to her once? We
couldn't possibly die eating from a bowl however unclean it is, right?"
After that incident, for a long period of time, mother did not speak to me
and you can feel that there is a very awkward feeling hanging in the
house.
During that period of cold war, hubby was caught in dilemma as to who to
please.
In order to stop her son from having to prepare breakfast, mother took on
the "all important" task of preparing breakfast without any prompting. At
the breakfast table, mother would look at hubby happily eating his
breakfast
and cast that reprimanding stare at me for having failed to perform my
duty
as a wife.
To avoid the embarrassing breakfast situation, I resorted to buying my own
breakfast on my way to work. That night, while in bed, hubby was a little
upset and asked me: "LD, is it because you think that mum's cooking is
not
clean that's why you chose not to eat at home?"
He then turned his back on me and left me alone in tears as feeling of
unfairness overwhelmed me. After sometime, hubby sighed: "LD, just for me,
can you have breakfast at home?" I am left with no choice but to return to
the breakfast table.
The next morning, I was having porridge prepared by mother and I felt a
sudden churn in my stomach and everything inside seem to be rushing up my
throat. I tried to suppress the urge to throw up but I couldn't. I threw
down the bowl and rushed into the washroom and vomited everything out.
Just as I was catching my breath, I saw mother crying and grumbling very
&g!
t; loudly in her dialect, hubby was standing at the washroom doorway
staring
at me with fire burning in his eyes. I opened my mouth but no words came
out
of it, I really didn't mean it.
We had our very first big fight that day; mother took a look at us, then
stood up and slowly made her way out of the house. Hubby gave me a final
stare in the eye and followed mother down the stairs.
For three days, hubby did not return home, not even a phone call. I was so
furious, since other arrived; I had been trying my best and putting up
with
her, what else do you want me to do? For no reason, I keep having the
feeling to throw up and I simply have not appetite for food, coupled with
all the events happening at home, I was at the low point in my life.
Finally, a colleague said: "LD, you look terrible; you should go and see a
doctor."
The doctor confirmed that I am pregnant. Now it became clear to me why I
threw up that fateful morning, a sense of sadness floated through that
otherwise happy news.
Why didn't hubby, and mother who had been through this before, thought of
the possibility of this being the reason that day? At the hospital
entrance,
I saw my hubby standing there. It had only been three days, but he looked
haggard.
I had wanted to turn and leave, but one look at him and my heart soften, I
couldn't resist and called out to him. He followed my voice and finally
found me but he pretended that he doesn't
know me; he has that disgusted look in his eyes that cut right through my
heart.
I told myself not to look at him anymore, and hail a cab. At that moment,
I
have such a strong urge inside me to shout to my hubby: "Darling, I am
having your baby!" and have him lift me up and spin me round in circles of
joy.
What I wanted didn't happen and as I sat in the cab, my tears started
rolling down.
Why? Why our love couldn't even withstand the test of one fight? Back
home,
I lay on the bed thinking about my hubby, and the disgusted look in his
eyes.
I cried and wet the corner of the blanket. That night, sound of the
drawers
opening woke me up.
I switched on the lights and I saw hubby with tears rolling down his face.
He was removing the money. I stared at him in silence; he ignored me, took
the bank deposit book and some money and left the house. Maybe he really
intends to leave me for good.
What a rational man, so clear-cut in love and money matters. I gave a few
dried laugh and tears starting streaming down again. The next day, I did
not
go to work. I wanted to clear this out and have a good talk with hubby.
I reached his office and his secretary gave me a weird look and said:
"Mr.
Tan's mother had a traffic accident and is now in the hospital."
I stood there in shock. I rushed to the hospital and by the time I found
hubby, mother had
already passed away. Hubby did not look at me, his face was
expressionless.
I looked at mother's pale white and thin face and I couldn't control the
tears in my eyes.
My God, how could this happen? Throughout the funeral, hubby did say a
single word to me, with only the occasional disgusted stare at me. I only
managed to find out brief facts about the accident from other people.
That day, after mother left the house, she walked in dazed towards the bus
stop, apparently intending to go back to her old house back in the
countryside. As hubby ran after her, she tried to walk faster and as she
tried to cross the street, a public bus came and hit her...
I finally understood how much hubby must hate me, if I had not thrown up
that morning, if we had not quarreled, if...In his heart, I am indirectly
the killer of his mother.
Hubby moved into mother's room and came home every night with a strong
liquor smell on him. And me, I am buried under the guilt and self pity and
could hardly breathe.
I wanted to explain to him, tell him that we are going to have our baby
soon, but each time, I saw the dead look in his eyes, all the words I have
at the brink of my mouth just fell back in.
I had rather he hit me real hard or give me a big and thorough scolding
though none of these events happening had been my fault at all. Many days
of
suffocating silence went by and as the days went by, hubby came home later
and later. The deadlock between us continues, we were living together like
strangers who don't know each other. I am like the dead knot in his heart.
One day, I passed by a western restaurant, looking into the glass window,
I
saw hubby and a girl sitting facing each other and he very lightly brushed
her hair for her, I understood what it meant. After recovering from that
moment of shock, I entered the restaurant, stood in front of my hubby and
stared hard at him, not a tear in my eyes. I have nothing to say to him,
and
there is no need to say anything.
The girl looked at me, looks at hubby, stands up and wanted to go, hubby
stretched out his hand and stopped her. He stared back at me, challenging
me. I can only hear my slow heartbeat, beating, one by one as if at the
brink of death. I eventually backed down, if I had stood that any longer,
I
will collapse together with the baby inside me.
That night, he did not come home; he had chosen to use that as a way to
indicate to me: Following mother's death so did our love for each other.
He did not come home anymore after that.
Sometimes, when I returned home from work, I can tell that the cupboard
had
been touched -he had returned to take some of his stuff.
I no longer wish to call him; the initial desire to explain everything to
him vanished.
I lived alone; I go for my medical checkups alone, my heart breaks again
and
again every time I see a guy carefully helping his wife through the &! gt;
physical examination. My office colleagues hinted to me to consider
aborting
the baby, I told them No, I will not.
I insisted on having to this baby, perhaps it is my way of repaying mother
for causing her death. One day, I came home and I saw hubby sitting in
the
living room. The whole house was filled with cigarette smoke. On the
coffee
table, there was this piece of paper. I know what it is all about without
even looking at it.
In the two months plus of living alone, I have gradually learned to find
peace within myself.
I looked at him, removed my hat and said: "You wait a while, I will sign."
He looked at me, mixed feelings in his eyes, just like mine. As I hang up
my
coat, I keep repeating to myself "You cannot cry, you cannot cry..." my
eyes
hurt terribly, but I refused to let tears come out from there.
After I hung up my coat, hubby's eyes stared fixed at my bulging tummy. I
smiled, walked over to the coffee table and pull the paper towards me.
Without even looking at what it says, I signed my name on it and pushed
the
paper to him.
"LD, you are pregnant?"
Since mother's accident, this is the first time he spoke to me. I could
not
control my tears any further and they fell like raindrops.
I said: "Yes, but its ok, you can leave now."
He did not go, in the dark, we sat, facing each other.
Hubby slowly moved over me, his tears wet the blanket.
In my heart, everything seems so far away, so far that even if I sprint, I
could never reach them.
I cannot remember how many times he repeated "sorry" to me, I had
originally
thought that I would forgive him, but now I can't! In the western
restaurant, in front of that girl, that cold look in his eyes, I will
never
forget, ever.
We have drawn such deep scares in each other's heart. For me, it's
unintentional; for him, totally intentional. I had been waiting for this
moment of reconciliation, but I realized now,
what had gone past is gone forever and could not repeated.
Other than the thought of the baby inside me that would bring some warmth
to
my heart, I am totally cold towards him, I no longer eat anything he buys
for me, I don't take any presents from him and I stopped talking to him.
From the moment I signed on that piece of paper, marriage and love had
vanished from my heart.
Sometimes, hubby will try to come into the bedroom, but when he walks in,
I
will walk out to the living room. He had no choice but to sleep in
mother's
room. At night, from his room, I can hear light sounds of groaning, I kept
quiet.
This used to be his trick; last time, whenever I ignore him, he would fake
illness and I will surrender and find out what is wrong with him, he would
then grab me and laugh.
He has forgotten that last time; I cared for him and am concerned because
there is love, but now, what is there between us? Hubby's groaning came on
and off continuing all the way till baby was born. Almost everyday, he
would
buy something for the baby, infant products,
children products and books that kids like to read.
Bag sand bags of it stacked inside his room till it is full. I know he is
trying to use this to reach out to me, but I am no longer moved by his
actions. He has no choice but to lock himself in his room and I can hear
him
typing away on his computer keyboard, maybe he is now addicted to web
surfing, but none of that matters to me anymore.
It was sometime towards the end of spring in the following year, one late
night, I screamed because of a sudden stomach pain, hubby came rushing
into
the room, its like he did not change and sleep, and had been waiting for
this moment. He carried me and ran down the stairs, stopped a car, holding
my hand very tightly and kept wiping the sweat off my brown, throughout
the
journey to the hospital.
Once we reached the hospital, he carried me and hurried into the delivery
suite. Lying on the back of his skinny but warmth body, a thought crossed
my mind: In my lifetime, who else would love me as much as he did?
He held the delivery suite door opened and watch me go in, his warm eyes
caused me to managed a smile at him despite my contraction pain. Coming
out
of the delivery room, hubby looked at our son, and me, his eyes tear with
joy and he kept smiling. I reached out and touched his hand.
Hubby looked at me, smiling and then he slowly collapsed onto the floor. I
cried out for him in pain... He smiled, but without opening that tired
eyes
of his... I had thought that I would never shed any tear for him, but the
truth is, I have never felt a deeper pain cutting through my body at that
moment. Doctor said that by the time hubby discovered he had liver
cancer,
it was
already in terminal stage and it was a miracle that he managed to last
this
long.
I asked the doctor when did he first discover he had cancer? Doctor said
about 5 months ago and consoled me saying: "Prepare for his funeral." I
disregarded the nurse's objection and rushed home, I went into his room
and
checked his computer, and a suffocating pain hits me.
Hubby's cancer was discovered 5 months ago, his groaning was real, and I
had
thought that... the computer showed over 200 thousand words he wrote for
our
son:
"Son, just for you, I have persisted, to be able to take a look at you
before I fall, is my biggest wish now... I know that in your life, you
will
have many happiness and maybe some setbacks, if only I can accompany you
throughout that journey, how nice would it be. But daddy now no longer has
that chance.
Daddy has written inside here all the possible difficulties and problems
you
may encounter during your lifetime, when you meet with these problems, you
can refer to daddy's suggestion... Son, after writing these 200 thousand
words, I feel as if I have accompanied you through your life journey. To
be
honest, daddy is very happy.
Do love your mother, she has suffered, she is the one who loves you most
and
also the one who loves me most..."
From play school to primary school, to secondary, university, to work and
even in dealing with questions of love, everything big and small was
written
there.
Hubby has also written a letter for me:
"My dear, to marry you is my biggest happiness, forgive me for the pain I
have caused you, forgive me for not telling you my illness, because I want
to see you be in a joyful mood waiting for the arrival of our baby... My
dear, if you cried, it means that you have forgiven me and I would smile,
thank you for loving me...
These presents, I'm afraid I cannot give them to our son personally, could
you help me to give some of them to him every year, the dates on what to
give when are all written on the packaging..."
Going back to the hospital, hubby is still in coma. I brought our son over
and place him beside him. I said: "Open your eyes and smile, I want our
son
to remember being in the warmth of
your arms..."
He struggled to open his eyes and managed a weak smile. Our son still in
his
arms was happily waving his tiny hands in the air. I press the button on
the camera and the sound of the shutter rang thought the air as tears
slowly
rolled down my face...
...The end...
Cruel misunderstandings one after another disrupted the blissful footsteps
to our family. Our original intend of having Mother enjoy some quiet and
peaceful moments in her remaining ears with us went terribly wrong as
destiny's secret is finally revealed at a price, every thing became too
late.
Just two years after our marriage, hubby brought up the idea of asking
Mother to move from the rural hometown and spend her remaining years with
us.
Hubby's father passed away while he was still very young. Mother endured
much hardship and struggled all on her own to provide for him, see him
through to a university degree. You could say that she suffered a great
deal and did everything you could expect of a woman to bring hubby to
where
he is today.
I immediately agreed and started packing the spare room, which has a
balcony
facing the South to let her enjoy the sunshine and plant some greenery.
Hubby stood in the bright room, and suddenly just picked me up and started
spinning round and round.
As I begged him to put me down, he said: "Lets go fetch mother."
Hubby is tall and big sized and I love to rest on his chest and enjoy the
feeling that he could pick me up at any moment put the tiny me into his
pockets.
Whenever we have an argument and both refuses to back down, he would pick
me
up and spin me over his head continuously until I surrender and beg for
mercy. I became addicted to this kind of panic-joy feeling.
Mother brought along her countryside ! habits and lifestyle with her.
For example; I am so used to buying flowers to decorate the living room,
she
could not stand it and would comment: "I do not know how you young people
spend your money, why do you buy flowers for? You also can't eat the
flowers!"
I smiled and said: "Mum, with flowers in the house, our mood will also
become better."
Mother continues to grumble away, and hubby smiled: "Mum, this is a
city-people's habit; slowly you will get use to it."
Mother stopped saying anything.
But every time thereafter, whenever I came home with flowers, she would
ask
me how much it costs. I told her and she would shake her head and express
displeasure. Sometimes, when I come home with lots of shopping bags, she
would ask each and every item how much they cost, I would tell her
honestly
and she would get even more upset about it.
Hubby playfully pinched my nose and said: "You little fool, just don't
tell
her the full price of everything would solve it."
There begins the friction to our otherwise happy lifestyle. Mother hates
it
most when hubby wakes up early to prepare the breakfast.
In your view, how could the man of the house cook for the wife? At the
breakfast table, mother facial _expression is always like the dark clouds
before a thunderstorm and I would pretend not to notice.
She would use her chopsticks and make a lot of noise with it as her silent
protest.
As I am a dance teacher in the Children's Palace and is exhausted from a
long day of dancing around, I do not wish to give up the luxury of that
additional few minutes in the comfort of my bed and hence I turned a deaf
ear to all the protest mother makes.
From time to time, mother would help out with some housework, but soon her
help created additional work for me.
For example, she would keep all kinds of plastic bags accumulating them so
that she sell them later on, and that resulted in our house being filled
with all the trash bags.
She would scrimp on dishwashing detergent when helping to wash the dishes
and so as not to hurt her feelings, I would quietly wash them again.
One day, late at night, mother saw me quietly washing the dishes, and
"Bam"
she slams her bedroom door and cried very loudly in her room.
Hubby was placed in a difficult position, and after that, he did not speak
to me for that entire night. I pretended to be a spoilt child, tried
acting
cute, but he totally ignored me.
I got mad and asked him: "What did I do wrong?"
Hubby stared at me and said: "Can't you just give in to her once? We
couldn't possibly die eating from a bowl however unclean it is, right?"
After that incident, for a long period of time, mother did not speak to me
and you can feel that there is a very awkward feeling hanging in the
house.
During that period of cold war, hubby was caught in dilemma as to who to
please.
In order to stop her son from having to prepare breakfast, mother took on
the "all important" task of preparing breakfast without any prompting. At
the breakfast table, mother would look at hubby happily eating his
breakfast
and cast that reprimanding stare at me for having failed to perform my
duty
as a wife.
To avoid the embarrassing breakfast situation, I resorted to buying my own
breakfast on my way to work. That night, while in bed, hubby was a little
upset and asked me: "LD, is it because you think that mum's cooking is
not
clean that's why you chose not to eat at home?"
He then turned his back on me and left me alone in tears as feeling of
unfairness overwhelmed me. After sometime, hubby sighed: "LD, just for me,
can you have breakfast at home?" I am left with no choice but to return to
the breakfast table.
The next morning, I was having porridge prepared by mother and I felt a
sudden churn in my stomach and everything inside seem to be rushing up my
throat. I tried to suppress the urge to throw up but I couldn't. I threw
down the bowl and rushed into the washroom and vomited everything out.
Just as I was catching my breath, I saw mother crying and grumbling very
&g!
t; loudly in her dialect, hubby was standing at the washroom doorway
staring
at me with fire burning in his eyes. I opened my mouth but no words came
out
of it, I really didn't mean it.
We had our very first big fight that day; mother took a look at us, then
stood up and slowly made her way out of the house. Hubby gave me a final
stare in the eye and followed mother down the stairs.
For three days, hubby did not return home, not even a phone call. I was so
furious, since other arrived; I had been trying my best and putting up
with
her, what else do you want me to do? For no reason, I keep having the
feeling to throw up and I simply have not appetite for food, coupled with
all the events happening at home, I was at the low point in my life.
Finally, a colleague said: "LD, you look terrible; you should go and see a
doctor."
The doctor confirmed that I am pregnant. Now it became clear to me why I
threw up that fateful morning, a sense of sadness floated through that
otherwise happy news.
Why didn't hubby, and mother who had been through this before, thought of
the possibility of this being the reason that day? At the hospital
entrance,
I saw my hubby standing there. It had only been three days, but he looked
haggard.
I had wanted to turn and leave, but one look at him and my heart soften, I
couldn't resist and called out to him. He followed my voice and finally
found me but he pretended that he doesn't
know me; he has that disgusted look in his eyes that cut right through my
heart.
I told myself not to look at him anymore, and hail a cab. At that moment,
I
have such a strong urge inside me to shout to my hubby: "Darling, I am
having your baby!" and have him lift me up and spin me round in circles of
joy.
What I wanted didn't happen and as I sat in the cab, my tears started
rolling down.
Why? Why our love couldn't even withstand the test of one fight? Back
home,
I lay on the bed thinking about my hubby, and the disgusted look in his
eyes.
I cried and wet the corner of the blanket. That night, sound of the
drawers
opening woke me up.
I switched on the lights and I saw hubby with tears rolling down his face.
He was removing the money. I stared at him in silence; he ignored me, took
the bank deposit book and some money and left the house. Maybe he really
intends to leave me for good.
What a rational man, so clear-cut in love and money matters. I gave a few
dried laugh and tears starting streaming down again. The next day, I did
not
go to work. I wanted to clear this out and have a good talk with hubby.
I reached his office and his secretary gave me a weird look and said:
"Mr.
Tan's mother had a traffic accident and is now in the hospital."
I stood there in shock. I rushed to the hospital and by the time I found
hubby, mother had
already passed away. Hubby did not look at me, his face was
expressionless.
I looked at mother's pale white and thin face and I couldn't control the
tears in my eyes.
My God, how could this happen? Throughout the funeral, hubby did say a
single word to me, with only the occasional disgusted stare at me. I only
managed to find out brief facts about the accident from other people.
That day, after mother left the house, she walked in dazed towards the bus
stop, apparently intending to go back to her old house back in the
countryside. As hubby ran after her, she tried to walk faster and as she
tried to cross the street, a public bus came and hit her...
I finally understood how much hubby must hate me, if I had not thrown up
that morning, if we had not quarreled, if...In his heart, I am indirectly
the killer of his mother.
Hubby moved into mother's room and came home every night with a strong
liquor smell on him. And me, I am buried under the guilt and self pity and
could hardly breathe.
I wanted to explain to him, tell him that we are going to have our baby
soon, but each time, I saw the dead look in his eyes, all the words I have
at the brink of my mouth just fell back in.
I had rather he hit me real hard or give me a big and thorough scolding
though none of these events happening had been my fault at all. Many days
of
suffocating silence went by and as the days went by, hubby came home later
and later. The deadlock between us continues, we were living together like
strangers who don't know each other. I am like the dead knot in his heart.
One day, I passed by a western restaurant, looking into the glass window,
I
saw hubby and a girl sitting facing each other and he very lightly brushed
her hair for her, I understood what it meant. After recovering from that
moment of shock, I entered the restaurant, stood in front of my hubby and
stared hard at him, not a tear in my eyes. I have nothing to say to him,
and
there is no need to say anything.
The girl looked at me, looks at hubby, stands up and wanted to go, hubby
stretched out his hand and stopped her. He stared back at me, challenging
me. I can only hear my slow heartbeat, beating, one by one as if at the
brink of death. I eventually backed down, if I had stood that any longer,
I
will collapse together with the baby inside me.
That night, he did not come home; he had chosen to use that as a way to
indicate to me: Following mother's death so did our love for each other.
He did not come home anymore after that.
Sometimes, when I returned home from work, I can tell that the cupboard
had
been touched -he had returned to take some of his stuff.
I no longer wish to call him; the initial desire to explain everything to
him vanished.
I lived alone; I go for my medical checkups alone, my heart breaks again
and
again every time I see a guy carefully helping his wife through the &! gt;
physical examination. My office colleagues hinted to me to consider
aborting
the baby, I told them No, I will not.
I insisted on having to this baby, perhaps it is my way of repaying mother
for causing her death. One day, I came home and I saw hubby sitting in
the
living room. The whole house was filled with cigarette smoke. On the
coffee
table, there was this piece of paper. I know what it is all about without
even looking at it.
In the two months plus of living alone, I have gradually learned to find
peace within myself.
I looked at him, removed my hat and said: "You wait a while, I will sign."
He looked at me, mixed feelings in his eyes, just like mine. As I hang up
my
coat, I keep repeating to myself "You cannot cry, you cannot cry..." my
eyes
hurt terribly, but I refused to let tears come out from there.
After I hung up my coat, hubby's eyes stared fixed at my bulging tummy. I
smiled, walked over to the coffee table and pull the paper towards me.
Without even looking at what it says, I signed my name on it and pushed
the
paper to him.
"LD, you are pregnant?"
Since mother's accident, this is the first time he spoke to me. I could
not
control my tears any further and they fell like raindrops.
I said: "Yes, but its ok, you can leave now."
He did not go, in the dark, we sat, facing each other.
Hubby slowly moved over me, his tears wet the blanket.
In my heart, everything seems so far away, so far that even if I sprint, I
could never reach them.
I cannot remember how many times he repeated "sorry" to me, I had
originally
thought that I would forgive him, but now I can't! In the western
restaurant, in front of that girl, that cold look in his eyes, I will
never
forget, ever.
We have drawn such deep scares in each other's heart. For me, it's
unintentional; for him, totally intentional. I had been waiting for this
moment of reconciliation, but I realized now,
what had gone past is gone forever and could not repeated.
Other than the thought of the baby inside me that would bring some warmth
to
my heart, I am totally cold towards him, I no longer eat anything he buys
for me, I don't take any presents from him and I stopped talking to him.
From the moment I signed on that piece of paper, marriage and love had
vanished from my heart.
Sometimes, hubby will try to come into the bedroom, but when he walks in,
I
will walk out to the living room. He had no choice but to sleep in
mother's
room. At night, from his room, I can hear light sounds of groaning, I kept
quiet.
This used to be his trick; last time, whenever I ignore him, he would fake
illness and I will surrender and find out what is wrong with him, he would
then grab me and laugh.
He has forgotten that last time; I cared for him and am concerned because
there is love, but now, what is there between us? Hubby's groaning came on
and off continuing all the way till baby was born. Almost everyday, he
would
buy something for the baby, infant products,
children products and books that kids like to read.
Bag sand bags of it stacked inside his room till it is full. I know he is
trying to use this to reach out to me, but I am no longer moved by his
actions. He has no choice but to lock himself in his room and I can hear
him
typing away on his computer keyboard, maybe he is now addicted to web
surfing, but none of that matters to me anymore.
It was sometime towards the end of spring in the following year, one late
night, I screamed because of a sudden stomach pain, hubby came rushing
into
the room, its like he did not change and sleep, and had been waiting for
this moment. He carried me and ran down the stairs, stopped a car, holding
my hand very tightly and kept wiping the sweat off my brown, throughout
the
journey to the hospital.
Once we reached the hospital, he carried me and hurried into the delivery
suite. Lying on the back of his skinny but warmth body, a thought crossed
my mind: In my lifetime, who else would love me as much as he did?
He held the delivery suite door opened and watch me go in, his warm eyes
caused me to managed a smile at him despite my contraction pain. Coming
out
of the delivery room, hubby looked at our son, and me, his eyes tear with
joy and he kept smiling. I reached out and touched his hand.
Hubby looked at me, smiling and then he slowly collapsed onto the floor. I
cried out for him in pain... He smiled, but without opening that tired
eyes
of his... I had thought that I would never shed any tear for him, but the
truth is, I have never felt a deeper pain cutting through my body at that
moment. Doctor said that by the time hubby discovered he had liver
cancer,
it was
already in terminal stage and it was a miracle that he managed to last
this
long.
I asked the doctor when did he first discover he had cancer? Doctor said
about 5 months ago and consoled me saying: "Prepare for his funeral." I
disregarded the nurse's objection and rushed home, I went into his room
and
checked his computer, and a suffocating pain hits me.
Hubby's cancer was discovered 5 months ago, his groaning was real, and I
had
thought that... the computer showed over 200 thousand words he wrote for
our
son:
"Son, just for you, I have persisted, to be able to take a look at you
before I fall, is my biggest wish now... I know that in your life, you
will
have many happiness and maybe some setbacks, if only I can accompany you
throughout that journey, how nice would it be. But daddy now no longer has
that chance.
Daddy has written inside here all the possible difficulties and problems
you
may encounter during your lifetime, when you meet with these problems, you
can refer to daddy's suggestion... Son, after writing these 200 thousand
words, I feel as if I have accompanied you through your life journey. To
be
honest, daddy is very happy.
Do love your mother, she has suffered, she is the one who loves you most
and
also the one who loves me most..."
From play school to primary school, to secondary, university, to work and
even in dealing with questions of love, everything big and small was
written
there.
Hubby has also written a letter for me:
"My dear, to marry you is my biggest happiness, forgive me for the pain I
have caused you, forgive me for not telling you my illness, because I want
to see you be in a joyful mood waiting for the arrival of our baby... My
dear, if you cried, it means that you have forgiven me and I would smile,
thank you for loving me...
These presents, I'm afraid I cannot give them to our son personally, could
you help me to give some of them to him every year, the dates on what to
give when are all written on the packaging..."
Going back to the hospital, hubby is still in coma. I brought our son over
and place him beside him. I said: "Open your eyes and smile, I want our
son
to remember being in the warmth of
your arms..."
He struggled to open his eyes and managed a weak smile. Our son still in
his
arms was happily waving his tiny hands in the air. I press the button on
the camera and the sound of the shutter rang thought the air as tears
slowly
rolled down my face...
...The end...
Story of Dreams
Here are some inspirational stories i had from my inbox.
-----Unknown Author -----
Once there were three trees on a hill in the
woods. They were
discussing
their hopes and dreams when the first tree said,
"Someday, I hope to be a
treasure chest. I could be filled with gold, silver
and precious gems and
be
decorated with intricate carvings. Everyone would see
my beauty."
The second tree said, "Someday, I will be a
mighty ship. I will take
kings
and queens across the waters and sail to the corners
of other world.
Everyone
will feel safe in me because of the strength of my
hull."
Finally, the third tree said, "I want to grow to
be the tallest and
straightest tree in the forest. People will see me on
top of the hill and
look
up to my branches, and think of the heavens and God
and how close to them I
am
reaching. I will be the greatest tree of all time, and
people will always
remember me."
After a few years of praying that their dreams
would come true, a
group of
woodsmen came upon the trees. One came to the first
tree and said, *This
looks
like a strong tree, I think I should be able to sell
the wood to a
carpenter,"
and he began cutting it down. The tree was happy,
because he knew that the
carpenter would make him into a treasure chest. At the
second tree, one of
the
other woodsman said, "This looks like a strong tree. I
should be able to
sell it
to the shipyard." The a second tree was happy, because
he knew he was on
his way
to becoming a mighty ship.
When the woodsmen came upon the third tree, the
tree was frightened,
because it knew that, if it was cut down, its dreams
would not come true.
One of
the woodsmen said, "I don't need anything special from
my tree, so I'll
take
this one," and he cut it down.
When the first tree arrived at the carpenter's,
he was made into a
feed box
for animals, placed in a barn and filled with hay.
This was not at all what
he
had prayed for.
The second tree was cut and made into a small
fishing boat. His dreams
of
being a mighty ship and carrying kings had come to an
end. The third tree
was
cut into large pieces and left alone in the dark.
The years went by, and the trees forgot about
their dreams. Then one
day, a
man and woman came to the barn. She gave birth, and
they placed the baby in
the
hay in the feed box that was made from the first tree.
The man wished that
he
could have made a crib for the baby, but this manger
would have to do. The
tree
could feel the importance of this event and knew that
it had held the
greatest
treasure of all time.
Years later, a group of men got in the fishing
boat made from the
second
tree. One of them was tired and went to sleep. While
they were out on the
water,
a great storm arose, and the tree didn't think it was
strong enough to keep
the
men safe.
The men woke the sleeping man, and he stood and
said "Peace," and the
storm
stopped. At this time, the tree knew that it had
carried the King of Kings
in
its boat. Finally, someone came and got the third
tree. It was carried
through
the streets, and the crowd mocked the man who was
carrying it.
Finally,the man was nailed to the tree and raised
in the air to die at
the
top of a hill. When Sunday came, the tree came to
realize that it was
strong
enough to stand at the top of the hill and be as close
to God as was
possible,
because Jesus had been crucified on it.
The moral of this story is that, when things
don't seem to be going
your
way, always know that God has a plan for you. If you
place your trust in
Him, He
will give you great gifts. Each of the trees got what
they wanted, just not
in
the way they had imagined. We don't always know what
God's plans are for
us. We
just know that His ways are not our ways,but His ways
are always best.
Sometimes the heart sees what the eyes can't.
-----Unknown Author -----
Once there were three trees on a hill in the
woods. They were
discussing
their hopes and dreams when the first tree said,
"Someday, I hope to be a
treasure chest. I could be filled with gold, silver
and precious gems and
be
decorated with intricate carvings. Everyone would see
my beauty."
The second tree said, "Someday, I will be a
mighty ship. I will take
kings
and queens across the waters and sail to the corners
of other world.
Everyone
will feel safe in me because of the strength of my
hull."
Finally, the third tree said, "I want to grow to
be the tallest and
straightest tree in the forest. People will see me on
top of the hill and
look
up to my branches, and think of the heavens and God
and how close to them I
am
reaching. I will be the greatest tree of all time, and
people will always
remember me."
After a few years of praying that their dreams
would come true, a
group of
woodsmen came upon the trees. One came to the first
tree and said, *This
looks
like a strong tree, I think I should be able to sell
the wood to a
carpenter,"
and he began cutting it down. The tree was happy,
because he knew that the
carpenter would make him into a treasure chest. At the
second tree, one of
the
other woodsman said, "This looks like a strong tree. I
should be able to
sell it
to the shipyard." The a second tree was happy, because
he knew he was on
his way
to becoming a mighty ship.
When the woodsmen came upon the third tree, the
tree was frightened,
because it knew that, if it was cut down, its dreams
would not come true.
One of
the woodsmen said, "I don't need anything special from
my tree, so I'll
take
this one," and he cut it down.
When the first tree arrived at the carpenter's,
he was made into a
feed box
for animals, placed in a barn and filled with hay.
This was not at all what
he
had prayed for.
The second tree was cut and made into a small
fishing boat. His dreams
of
being a mighty ship and carrying kings had come to an
end. The third tree
was
cut into large pieces and left alone in the dark.
The years went by, and the trees forgot about
their dreams. Then one
day, a
man and woman came to the barn. She gave birth, and
they placed the baby in
the
hay in the feed box that was made from the first tree.
The man wished that
he
could have made a crib for the baby, but this manger
would have to do. The
tree
could feel the importance of this event and knew that
it had held the
greatest
treasure of all time.
Years later, a group of men got in the fishing
boat made from the
second
tree. One of them was tired and went to sleep. While
they were out on the
water,
a great storm arose, and the tree didn't think it was
strong enough to keep
the
men safe.
The men woke the sleeping man, and he stood and
said "Peace," and the
storm
stopped. At this time, the tree knew that it had
carried the King of Kings
in
its boat. Finally, someone came and got the third
tree. It was carried
through
the streets, and the crowd mocked the man who was
carrying it.
Finally,the man was nailed to the tree and raised
in the air to die at
the
top of a hill. When Sunday came, the tree came to
realize that it was
strong
enough to stand at the top of the hill and be as close
to God as was
possible,
because Jesus had been crucified on it.
The moral of this story is that, when things
don't seem to be going
your
way, always know that God has a plan for you. If you
place your trust in
Him, He
will give you great gifts. Each of the trees got what
they wanted, just not
in
the way they had imagined. We don't always know what
God's plans are for
us. We
just know that His ways are not our ways,but His ways
are always best.
Sometimes the heart sees what the eyes can't.
"Just Asking"
"I look
I stare
I observe
But it seems you don't feel I exist
I was wounded
By your sight I was healed
I was hurt
By your smile I was comforted
I failed but
Your presence made me survive
You made the dazzle with joy
You filled my days with gaiety
You gladdened my heart
You made me extra ordinarily happy
Cogitating all the deeds you do
Undoubtedly desirable, admirable
Simply your a chevalier chap
Witty man with weal action
With the superb traits you embody
Is it too much to ask
If I can be you friend..."
I saw this poem on my compilations while i am cleaning my cabinet and i forgot where it came from and who wrote it. I just wanted to share it :)
I stare
I observe
But it seems you don't feel I exist
I was wounded
By your sight I was healed
I was hurt
By your smile I was comforted
I failed but
Your presence made me survive
You made the dazzle with joy
You filled my days with gaiety
You gladdened my heart
You made me extra ordinarily happy
Cogitating all the deeds you do
Undoubtedly desirable, admirable
Simply your a chevalier chap
Witty man with weal action
With the superb traits you embody
Is it too much to ask
If I can be you friend..."
I saw this poem on my compilations while i am cleaning my cabinet and i forgot where it came from and who wrote it. I just wanted to share it :)
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